When He Comes
by The Alice of Shredd
Summary: Red X breaks into Starfire's room one night, but not an hour later, Red X contacts Raven for help. Thing is, they aren't the same person.
1. Corruption of the Mask

"**When He Comes"**

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This fanfiction is rated M mostly for language and sexual abuse, although this first chapter is the worst of the fifteen written so far.

Forgive any small out-of-character moments that occur…

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**Chapter One: Corruption of the Mask**

Starfire returned to her room late one night, tired and sweating from a recent battle with Cinderblock. She closed her door and laid on the bed, completely exhausted. Deciding to take a shower before tempting herself into sleep, she rose to her feet sloppily, stumbling into the bathroom and grabbing a purple towel.

She turned on the water so that it was steaming hot and draped the towel over a beam protruding from the closest wall. Undressing herself quickly, she slid into the pouring water.

The hot stream pounded on her head and back like a massage set on high. Starfire sighed tilted her head back, closing her eyes, wetting her hair. She reached for a soap container on her left and picked it up when something- or, rather, someone- caught her hand.

"What?" she asked as the person wrenched the bottle from her hand. She looked up and saw a white mask, the shape of a skull, with only two eyes and a red x marked across it. She heard him laugh; a husky laugh from deep in his throat. A scream erupted from her immediately, but became silent as he lifted her out of the shower with one hand and covered her mouth with the other. Starfire grabbed her towel just as he flicked the light switch off.

"Red X," she mumbled through his hand into the blackness. "Get away!"

"No," he whispered. It surprised her when a clacking noise came from the floor and his breath tickled her face.

_He had removed his mask._

Starfire fought to get his hand off the bare skin of her waist. She twisted away, her back to him, when he merely grabbed her from behind instead. He sighed into her neck, causing Starfire to shiver and continue her attempt at getting away.

But he held her even tighter and, as he did, the gloved hand around her stomach began to move upwards, slowly creeping up to her naked breasts.

"Stop!" Starfire cried. It came out as a squeak, though; his other hand was still at her mouth. "Do not-"

"I can't hear you," he laughed softly into her ear. His voice sounded different without the mask to modify it; now it sounded lower and more menacing. His hand finally reached Starfire's collarbone and was now advancing up her throat.

Starfire kept trying to get away by kicking him and moving her arms, but both his arms held hers in place without the slightest effort. Her eyes sparked as he turned her head to face him, illuminating the room. He winced, but didn't move.

He had brown hair and bangs covering his face, with hazel eyes that glinted with pleasure. "You," he smiled with a laugh. "Look wonderful in this lighting."

"Clorbag!" She snarled, tears mixing with water on her face. He turned her quite suddenly, keeping her arms pinned to her sides but removing his hand from her face.

"Swear all you want," he hissed, nearing her face. "It turns me on."

X leaned into her, clashing his lips with hers. She felt his tongue enter her mouth as she began to protest, a wet and vile sort of taste coming with it. He pulled away for a moment, forcing her backwards against the wall. The tile wall met her back, chillingly cold as his black costume pressed against her front. His hands began to search her body, though he forgot to hold her arms in the process.

As his hand brushed Starfire's inner thigh, she clenched her fists and concentrated on him. Her eyebeams blasted him backwards as she screamed and shoved him straight into the sink.

"Shit," He mumbled, regaining his balance. "Damn powers!"

Starfire heard the door between her room and the hallway slide open over the noise of the shower and heavy footsteps outside the bathroom approached. "Starfire?" Robin asked fiercely. "Are you okay?"

"Rob-"

X's hand clamped down on her mouth again, but she twisted away from him angrily, raking his face with her fingernails. He yelled out in pain, stumbling away again.

"Star!" Robin shouted. More footsteps followed and then the door to the bathroom rattled. "Unlock the door!"

She looked from the door to X. He was on his feet again, in his hand a device she hadn't yet seen. Her senses heightened as he growled, "I'll be back, princess."

There was a blinding light, and then he was gone.

Starfire was still for a moment. With trembling hands, she wrapped the towel she still held around herself and, not caring that she was dripping wet and partially exposed, opened the door to her bedroom. She rushed forward at a bewildered Robin, throwing him slightly off balance as she flew at him.

"Starfire!" He held her at an arm's width, looking over the terrified expression on her face. Tears ran silently down her cheeks as she let go of him and collapsed at his feet, leaning forward over her knees and holding a metal toe of one of his boots as if her life depended on it. "Star!" he yelled, dropping to the floor as well. "What happened?"

"Robin," she bawled as he forced her to sit up. Her head hung low, she sniffed and shook her head, sending droplets of water flying from her hair. "Robin…!"

"What…" His question died in his throat. His gaze softened as she leaned toward him, resting her forehead on his shoulder and clutching to the fabric of his costume. He pulled her closer, kneeling on both knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, continuing to cry into his shoulder. "Shh," he commanded gently. "You'll be okay…"

"No," she argued with a broken voice. "I will not."

And before Robin could answer, the three other Titans shot into the room, a momentary delay between each of them.

"Star?" Beast Boy yelped as he shot into the room after Raven and Cyborg. He looked away and raised a hand to the side of his face; Starfire's towel had begun to slip from her form. However, he was the only one who seemed to notice.

"_Man_," Cyborg whispered, sharing a glance with Robin. "What the hell…?"

Raven was the first to help. She opened the closet and grabbed a silken purple sheet. Then, she promptly turned to the distraught Tamaranean and, with one smooth motion, draped the sheet around Starfire as she lowered herself to the floor. "Star?"

Starfire turned her head the smallest amount and leaned away from Robin, fingering the edge of the sheet as she pulled it across herself.

Beast Boy let out a quiet sigh and uncovered his eyes. Cyborg glanced at him in annoyance but soon turned back to Starfire.

Raven gripped Starfire's elbow lightly, pulling her as she got to her feet. Robin rose with them, averting his eyes for a moment as the towel dropped to the floor and the sheet swung to cover where it had been.

"Come with me," Raven smiled soothingly. Starfire nodded, recoiling from Robin and following Raven as she went out the door.

Once they had gone, Beast Boy turned to Robin and blinked. "What's going on?"

But Robin looked at both the Titans before he shrugged, sighing. "I… I really have no idea."

"No idea?" Cyborg asked. "Well, why did you come into her room, then?"

There was a pause, and then he answered, "I thought I heard Starfire scream from the bathroom. And I'm beginning to think that there was someone else in the bathroom with her." He pointed to the floor of the adjacent room. A white mask with a red x across it was lying there, covered halfway in shadows.

"No," Beast Boy choked, retrieving the mask and returning to the room with it. "No… But he…" He stared at the mask in his hand as if it was the most nauseating and repulsive thing he'd ever seen.

"That _dick_!" Cyborg gritted his teeth in anger. "He… he wouldn't… Would he?"

Robin closed his eyes. "I don't know. All I want to know is that Starfire is okay. Then we'll go after X."

"And if she isn't?" Cyborg wondered.

The team leader shot him a look from behind his mask. "Then we'll _make_ her okay. And then we'll torture and kill that fucking bastard."

Leaving the other two in stunned silence, he strode out the door, shaking with fury.

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Review, if you'd like. I'll update swiftly anyway, but nice comments always help.

Have a nice day, or night, or morning, and thank you for reading.

L.S.


	2. Suspicion

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Thank you to those who have reviewed, thank you to those who have read, and thank you to those who are reading this because you liked the first chapter enough to want the second.

May I say that this _is_a Raven/Red X story, but that really only starts showing at about chapter three or four. Excuse the confusion.

Moving forward…

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**Chapter Two: Suspicion**

As soon as she reached Raven's room, still shivering, Starfire sank onto the bed with a shaky sigh. Raven stood next to her, unsure of what to do first. "Starfire," she said smoothly after a few seconds.

Starfire nodded meekly in reply.

"I want to know what happened…" She paused. "But I don't think you should tell me—anyone—what happened until you're ready to."

She nodded again. "May… may I get c-clean first-t…?"

Raven was surprised that she wanted to go into another bathroom when she had just come out of one half-naked and screaming. "Okay," she said. "I'll go get your clothes-"

"No!" Starfire looked up at her fiercely. "I do not wish to be alone again! He… he might come again…"

"Alright, alright," Raven gently smiled, not used to seeing the usually brave girl so close to tears. "I'll stay in here while you're in the bathroom. Just yell if you need anything."

"But… he covered my mouth so I could not do the yelling before, so-"

"I'm a telepath, Starfire. Just think something really loudly and I'll hear it. You're already so edgy that I can feel your emotions perfectly. Now, like I said, I'll be right out here; go take a shower." She took Starfire's hand and pulled her towards the bathroom, prodding her inside.

"Thank you, Raven," Starfire said quietly, closing the door.

"You're welcome," she answered, quietly waiting until the sound of rushing water was heard. Then she turned to the hallway door, about to open it when someone knocked. "Yes?" she asked, allowing it to slide open. Robin was standing there, one hand behind his back, a grimace set on his face. "Robin," Raven sighed, stepping sideways to allow him access to her room. "Need I ask?"

He didn't move his head, but Raven could tell he was looking around. "Where's-"

"Starfire," she interrupted, "Is currently getting the soap out of her hair… but I sense you need to tell _me_ something as well."

"How..."

"How _what_?"

Robin suddenly clenched his hanging fist. "How can you just be so nonchalant about this whole thing?" Within a moment, a white mask was an inch from her face, quivering by the anger of the one holding it. "He _raped_ Starfire!"

"Sexually assaulted is a better term. According to her emotions, he didn't actually-"

"He was in her bathroom when she was in the middle of a _shower_! And she was--" He stopped; the tinge of a blush had appeared on his face.

"Yes, I am aware of the fact that people don't take showers with their clothes on, Robin," Raven murmured slowly, taking the mask from him. "But until Starfire can tell us what happened, we-"

"I don't want to wait!" he insisted. Jerking his chin towards the bathroom door, he hissed, "He _hurt_ Star, that miserably deranged son of a-"

"Robin-"

"You have to go into her mind or something and find out yourself!" His tone grew louder. "I don't want to put Starfire into X's reach _again_! The sooner we capture him, the better!"

Calmly as ever, she replied, "Then I'll need to-"

"We need to go look for him, Raven, not waste time around here hunting for clues!" He grabbed the front of her cloak and, shaking with irritation, yanked her closer and shouted, "You don't get the urgency of this situation, do you? If someone you cared about was in danger, you wouldn't just stand there looking like I was crazy! You would help! But I guess you're just too swallowed up in your books all day even to understand _emotion_! If you're going to be useless, then I don't think you should even be on this-"

"_Robin!_" a voice yelled over him. Raven looked over Robin's shoulder and saw Beast Boy and Cyborg standing in the doorway. Beast Boy had spoken. "Leave her _alone_!"

Robin frowned and released his hold. "You two aren't in this conversation."

"It sounded more like a death match," Cyborg said quietly, stepping closer.

"And it becomes our business when you start threatening another teammate!" Beast Boy turned his glare on Raven. "What provoked him, anyway?"

She narrowed her violet eyes, gazing at the Boy Wonder out the corner of her eye. "I was about to tell him that I can figure out what's going on as soon as Star is out of the shower, but he'll have to search for Red X some other time, or by himself."

Robin snorted in annoyance. "How can you just-"

"Right now, we're all exhausted from the fight with Cinderblock. If you were to even _find_ X—which is in itself unlikely—what would you do? Tell him off peacefully? Robin, you'd either be beaten easily or kill yourself in defeating him."

"I would _not_--!"

"She's right," Cyborg agreed, placing a hand on Robin's shoulder. "You're too stubborn to let him go, but right now even _you_ are at the brink of collapsing. Hell, I'm half-robot and I'm still practically falling over, even with my battery fully charged."

Robin shrugged his hand away and stalked towards the door, shaking his head. With a look at Raven, Beast Boy and Cyborg both departed as well, presumably to question their leader further. As soon as the door had closed, blocking most of the light, Raven looked down at the mask, tracing with her finger the red X that slit the left eye and crossed the white forehead.

"Something… isn't right about this," she whispered, holding the mask at arm's length, studying it skeptically. "But I can't…" Her head jerked up—a toweled Starfire came stumbling out of the bathroom, dripping wet. "Star—?"

"I am finished," she announced. An uneasy look came across her face as her eyes fell on the mask; she stepped back. "Raven…"

"Sorry," she muttered, tossing it onto her dresser. "You'll want something to wear. To your room, then?"

"No!"

Starfire grabbed Raven's wrist and yanked her back. "Not in there. The mask—it is fine. I do not wish to go within reach of the shadowed room of bathing again. He might be in there…"

Raven nodded as she pried her arm away. "I have clothes," she murmured. "They're not my uniform, but they're a little… dark."

A nervous smile graced the Tamaranean's features. "That would be wonderful! They are in your closet?" She began searching the adjoining room for something to wear.

Raven, on the other hand, moved towards her dresser, eyeing the mask, running her fingers around the edge. _You're up to something,_ she said mentally. _Deeper than wanting Starfire. You've never been straightforward before…_

"Raven?"

Snapped back to reality, she looked up to see Starfire tying a black lace bow on the top of a short, strapped back nightgown. "Oh."

"Raven, why have I never seen these clothes? I do not have anything like—" She stopped, holding up a tiered black dress trimmed in blue. "–This?"

"Put that away… It's a ceremonial dress of Azarath. I had many; I don't know why, though. I never wore them. They were all too big, of course, but my mother forced me to be overly extravagant in mind as well as body." She smiled awkwardly. "And that nightgown? Beast Boy and Cyborg had the guts to buy that on one trip to the mall—as a joke, of course, knowing that I'd never wear it, either."

Starfire fingered the laced trimming hanging at her thighs. "It is beautiful. Perhaps you _should_ try to wear them, to appease-"

"Why would I… _appease_ Beast Boy and Cyborg?" She shook her head. "No, I don't think I will. But you should really get some sleep." A pause, and then— "In here?"

Starfire nodded, hanging up the dress in the closet again. "I do not wish to inconvenience you, but…"

'It's fine, Star. I'm going to go get some tea, though. Will you be alright?"

She nodded her head eagerly, sending water droplets flying. "Yes, I do believe so. Thank you for your concern."

"You're welcome… Although, tomorrow, you're going to have to tell me—everyone—what happened. Good night."

As Raven left, she head a meek voice say, "Yes, good night."

It made the usually solemn girl smile—secretly, of course—but then the thought that not everything was what it seemed to be fell onto her again, heavy and menacing, and the scowl returned.

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L.S.


	3. It's A Date

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Firstly, this is _not_ a Starfire/Red X story… well, not really. It's mainly a Raven/Red X story… that's why I put it under the Raven/Red X category. _Yes_, I _do_ know what I'm talking about.

Hopefully this chapter will clear things up a bit.

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**Chapter Three: It's… A Date.**

Just as Raven took a first sip of tea, the screen of the deserted main room flickered on by itself. It was completely black, but an unfamiliar voice spoke.

"Teen Titans?" it said quietly.

"Who else would it be?" She rolled her eyes, drinking another sip of tea. "Who are _you_?"

"You wouldn't believe me, Raven. And, anyway, you'd probably arrest me before I explained."

She laughed and neared the screen. "Try me," she challenged. "I'll listen."

The screen turned grey, white, and then a dark storage room appeared, a shadowed figure in the middle of it. As the person stepped forward, Raven could see it was a teenager—a boy slightly older than herself. He had black hair, almost metallic grey eyes rimmed in long, dark eyelashes, and was clad in all black.

"Sorry; I still don't know you." She shrugged, widening her eyes in question.

He smirked and raised his hand, in which a white, skeletal mask was held. "Know me now?"

The teacup hit the floor, crashing into multiple uneven chips. "_You!_" Raven growled, slamming her fists onto the desk, rattling the keyboard. "X! How _dare_ you-"

"Did I tell you, or did I tell you?" he mused, cutting her off. "Shoot first, ask question later, right?"

"But you broke into Starfire's _room_!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" he yelped, holding up a black-gloved hand. "_What_ did I do?"

Raven gaped at his genuinely confused expression. "You... you don't _remember_?"

He raised a brow. "All I _remember_ is that punk broke into the vault holding my costume! The thief stole everything but this mask! How could I have been in _your_ Tower in full costume if I don't even _have_ it?"

"I don't know," Raven answered hesitantly. "But I'm not sure if your version of the story is the truth."

Onscreen, he shrugged. "Unless you trust me, you'll never know. I can't catch the kid alone, and neither can you. And neither can Robin, Mr. I-Can-Do-Everything-By-Myself." He looked momentarily surprised with himself, but then smiled. "Oh, and my real name isn't Red X. Obviously."

"Obviously," she agreed sarcastically.

"It's Jason."

"Jason?" She narrowed her eyes. "Okay, then. If I _were_ to agree, _Jason_, with uniting against your little thief and our little sex offender, could-"

"What?" he looked horrified. "Who did he…?" He closed his eyes gravely. Waiting a moment, he looked up. "It was Starfire, wasn't it?"

She nodded in affirmation. "Yes… But I still don't trust you, no matter how oblivious you pretend to be."

"Your choice, I guess. Do we have a deal? Or a least a sort of… agreement?"

After a moment; "I suppose, although if you do anything stupid…"

"You'll arrest me? Kick my ass? Sic Robin on me? Yeah; I get it. And I won't do anything 'stupid'—personally, I don't want to be known as a rapist, thank you very much."

Compelled to nod, she bit her lip to silence herself. In her mind, she saw Starfire shaking, tears staining her face, and thought that it was stupid of her to put even mild trust in this stranger.

"Well," she concluded after a few seconds. "I'm tired. Can we talk later? And preferably not here? I'd rather not get Robin—or anyone else, really—caught up in this."

"If I turn out to be bad, only you'll be hurt?" he winced, looking at her forlornly. "Look, I didn't… Nevermind." He smiled. "Tomorrow, at noon work for you? At the park's eastern playground?"

"The playground?"

"Lot's of people there. Would you rather meet in a shadowy alleyway where I can molest you, too?" He winked.

"That's not funny. It's disgusting. Starfire's a wreck."

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled sadly. Continuing; "And could you wear jeans or something, not your uniform? I'd rather we just look like two normal teens on a date or something, not a hero and a villain teaming up to catch a guy that's worse than even their inner demons!."

Raven wasn't sure if there was a second meaning when he said 'inner demon.'

"Oh, why not," she sighed. "Sure. Noon, east playground, tomorrow, normalcy required."

"It's a date, then!" he chirped.

Before she could argue with his loose use of the word 'date,' the screen returned to normal display.

"What exactly have I gotten myself into this time?" she wondered aloud, bending to clean up the fragments of teacup at her feet.

_A date with a villain…_ She stopped, shaking her head. _No; not a date. A meeting._

But unbeknownst to her, she smiled as she slept.

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(Does everyone understand it now?)


	4. No Shadow At Noon

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You don't know how happy I was yesterday morning, waking up to have so many reviews stashed away, so many notices in my mailbox… Ah, a writer's paradise.

I hope the whole Raven/Red X thing is clear now… Although, within a few chapters, it may not make sense… again…

I really don't know what people mean by my writing style. I mean, the way I look at it, the only difference in styles would be however much description is actually in the writing… Why am I complaining? Everyone who reviewed likes my writing style, so…

Sorry for the rambling. You probably wanted chapter four, not some whole conversation the author had with herself. Excuse the delay.

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**Chapter Four: No Shadow At Noon**

Starfire awoke to the sound of rustling fabric. "Who…?" she wondered, temporarily forgetting the past night's incidents. "Raven?" she asked, sitting up. "May I inquire what you are doing?"

Raven looked over her shoulder at Starfire. "What? Oh! You're… awake! Well, I'm… I'm picking an outfit for today, alright?" She sighed, turning around. "I wanted to go out and look normal as I… investigate a lead."

Starfire blinked. "Investigate…?" She nodded, smiling. "Very well. Your… outfit?"

'Yeah. Feel like helping?"

She leaped from the bed and rushed to the closet. "Oh, yes, yes! I will assist best that I can!" She held up pair of dark blue jeans. "Would these be suitable for your day?"

Raven shrugged. "I suppose. I don't really ever wear them, but I'm guessing they'll fit…"

Starfire threw them to her and continued her search. After a moment, she paused.

"Star?"

Slowly, she straightened, in her hands a black, low-cut camisole with grey lace on the lining. "You would… _not_ wear this…"

Raven lowered her eyes. "It's a little revealing, Star. It was part of my Halloween costume, but it was too-" She stopped herself, watching as Starfire disappeared into the closet again. Soon enough, she emerged with a blackish-grey coat, thigh-length, with three large buttons fown the front.

"Would the Halloween costume shirt be appropriate under this?"

Raven gaped at her. "Since when did I have that?" She laughed, rolling her eyes. "You know, I really should go through the non-uniform section of my closet more often…"

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Raven sighed, leaning against the playground gates, watching the children play. Every once in a while, a mother or even a child would glare at her as if she didn't belong—an excellent way to start a sunny day. But she thought it _was_ to be expected; at the last minute, Starfire had managed to find a black, lace parasol for her. It wasn't really even needed: the sun wasn't bright enough in early November to do anything but slightly annoy her. She checked her watch, sighing again. _Eleven fifty-nine,_ she thought. _If he's late, I'm leav—_

"I didn't think you'd even trust me enough to come," an amused voice said from behind her, causing her to jump. "I guess I was wrong."

She turned, and gasped. She hadn't noticed it while Jason had been on-screen, but he had the exact look of Red X—the broad shoulders on top of a thin, lanky frame—

She shook her head. _It doesn't matter._

"Nice umbrella," he laughed, beginning to walk away. She narrowed her eyes, following him at a considerable distance, watching the back of his long-sleeved black shirt. "I didn't realize they made them that color."

After a moment, she argued, "It's not an umbrella. It's a _parasol_. And it's black because… it matches. And you shouldn't be giving _me_ fashion advice. _You_ are the one wearing girls' jeans, or didn't you notice when you were getting yourself dressed this morning?"

He looked over his shoulder, grinning. "Point taken. But, hey, I like this look. Not my fault you don't. Now, c'mon—we're going to be late!"

"Late?" She slowed down, distracted by her struggle to fold the parasol back into its impossibly tiny lace holder.

Jason looked over his shoulder. "Yes, _late_. What's wrong with the word _late_?"

"What are we going to be late _for_?"

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her along as he explained. "The train. We're going to my place to look for clues around there. Unless you want to grant me access into your Tower?"

"You actually thought about that?" Raven said skeptically. "The fact that you have this all planned out is sort of… suspicious."

He turned the corner as they exited the park's gate and then began walking backwards down the sidewalk. "Wouldn't it have been more suspicious if I had asked to go the Tower right away?"

She glared at him, unable to find a retort. "Fine," she said quietly. "I guess you're right… But I still don't-"

"You still don't trust me, I _know_! Anyway—hop on." He gestured to a black motorcycle while handing her a black helmet. "And wear this."

"But…" She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

He got on, helped her adjust the helmet, and then waited until she was settled behind him to start the engine. "Ready?"

"Ready for what? To be driven to some train station by some random teenager who claims to be Red X, but not the Red X who raped Starfire?"

He winked over his shoulder at her. "Yep! Hold on tight!"

The motorcycle leapt forward with a jolt, rattling slightly under her. "How can you stand to ride on this thing?" she asked quietly. After the bike turned a corner, she unwillingly wrapped her arms around his stomach in fear of falling off.

Cars passed by so quickly, it made her heart leap into her throat. Numerous times, she thought a truck was going to plow them into the road. As soon as the motorcycle slowed and came to a stop outside a shady-looking store, she released her tight hold on Jason and stumbled off, leaning against a parking meter for support. "Never again," she groaned, shooting daggers at the black monstrosity before turning her attention to the shop. "Auto Fix-It," she read off the flickering sign. "Why did we stop here?"

Jason didn't answer, but instead pulled her inside the door. "Jesse!" he yelled up the rickety staircase.

"Who's-" Raven started to ask, although her question was answered when a dirty-blonde teenager about Jason's height emerged from the door at the top of the steps.

"Hey, Red!" he called, leaping over the shaky railing. He landed heavily on the floor, eyeing up Raven. "Who's your little girlfriend? She looks like one of those Teen Titans you were fighting!"

"She is a Titan, but she isn't my girlfriend," Jason replied. "But that doesn't matter. The bike's here—change the oil before I get back later? Don't put on the X plates yet, though." He tossed the keys to Jesse. "Take it for a spin if you want—I'll come get it around seven."

"Seven?" Raven yelped. "But-"

"Seven it is!" Jesse laughed, loosely saluting the pair before Jason pulled Raven out the door again at a slow run.

"Seven?" she asked, stopping stiffly. "What are we going to do until seven?"

"I'm coming back here at seven," he answered, spinning to face her. "Who said you'll be with me?"

Her back prickled at the comment. "What do you mean, I won't be with you?"

"You're free to leave whenever you want. My guess is, we'll be finished with clues and stuff by three. You'll be home around four. I'll go do something for three hours, and then I'll pick up the bike. You won't be with me. Get it?"

She stood firm. "Are you sure that's what you meant?"

"Yes, I'm sure. If you don't believe me, feel free to go back to your Tower right now. I won't stop you. I just figured you would want to help me so you could benefit from the criminal too, since all I'll probably do is beat him senseless." He cracked a grim smile. "I'm mostly kidding about that, by the way, but…" He shrugged and continued toward the train station.

"Wait," Raven said loudly. He obeyed instantly. "Running is too slow."

Her eyes flashed black and a platform of dark magic lifted them both up in the air. Jason stepped closer to her; he was peering unsurely down at the road as it sank away from them. "There's the station," he pointed out after only a few seconds. "The grey-roofed thing."

Raven nodded, lowering them just outside the entrance. "Do you have-"

"Two tickets," he finished, holding up a pair of train passes. "But do you have enough faith in me to use them?"

She smirked. "I think I do." Without a second thought, she grabbed a ticket and walked through the doors.

"Excellent," Jason murmured smugly, trailing behind her. "Only a bit longer, then…"

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As always, comment your hearts out… (I especially enjoy the "this story kicks too much ass to be left unread" sort of comments, by the way. That brightened my entire week.)

(And some of you guys are reading every one of my stories on this site… That's so crazy, and so fun! I just hope one story doesn't discourage another from being read, if that makes sense…)


	5. Train, Monica, Rootbeer Floats, Suicide

**Chapter Five: Train, Monica, Rootbeer Floats, & Suicide (With a Side Order of Vomit To Go)**

"Why is lunchtime rush hour?" Raven groaned, tightening her grip on the wobbly pole at the train began moving after yet another stop. "This almost worse than the motorcycle!"

Jason shrugged. "I'm used to both, I guess. I've never really traveled in a custom-design T-car before, though, so that might be why. A school bus is the closest thing to it that I've been on, although that bus might be worse than both the motorcycle and this train combined!" The train jolted to the right, throwing Raven off balance as the pole shook again, threatening to become completely loose at any moment.

"Watch it, girl," a stern-looking man in a black suit growled. "Don't run into people so eagerly." A smug, suggestive expression crossed his face. "Unless, of course, you're selling something? Perhaps your fine, youthful self?"

She opened her mouth to answer but all the words stuck in her throat. This man towered a good foot over her head—practically touching the low ceiling—and his eyes glinted an icy blue. "I… I mean, I-I…" He took a step towards her, pushing through a few people as he did.

He reached out to grab her when an arm wrapped itself around her waist. Jason pulled her closer and snarled, "Leave her alone, you depraved-"

"Oh, she's _yours_, I suppose," the man interrupted. He turned around. "Very well." The train slowed suddenly, throwing its passengers forward. "Lucky for you young man, this is my stop."

Raven watched him leave and then closed her eyes for a moment. _Note to self_, she thought. _People in suits may be grosser than they appear._

"Are you okay?" Jason asked, turning her by the shoulder. "You look a bit sick."

She looked at him. "I'm not sick… But I never knew there were actually people like that in _this_ city."

"That just proves how much you've been isolated from the real world, doesn't it," he mused. "I don't really consider that happening either, of course—mostly 'cause I'm a guy. I _am_ sorry you had to deal with him, though."

"No—it's my fault for being stupid. You had to step in and save idiotically scared me."

"You were _scared_ of him?"

Raven rolled her eyes and turned to sit down in a newly open seat. "Does it really matter?"

He took a seat next to her. "Yeah! It's sort of funny, actually."

"It wouldn't be funny if some guy was coming at you, looking ready to grope you as soon as he could! I mean, that man had his hair _slicked back_! Stereotypical as it may be, he looked like a convicted rapist!" Raven inhaled slowly and then exhaled the same way. "Isn't the next stop ours?"

"Yeah, actually. Before we get here, I'm going to have to warn you. This isn't Jump City anymore. I've heard that, compared to Steel City's factory zones, it's worse." He laughed, scratching his forehead. "And quite honestly, I have no idea what attitude the people will have of you."

"You make it sound like we'll get in a knife fight on our way to your… place."

Again, Jason laughed. "You know, that could be a distinct possibility. But no, that's not right."

Raven raised a brow as the train began to slow again. "What's not right?"

"People down where I live… they don't use knives. They use guns, machetes, swords, axes… chainsaws…"

She shuddered at the thought. The doors opened and Jason prodded her out.

"I don't think I'll like it here, then," she said, following him up the exit stairs, almost trying to hide herself behind him.

"Take a look around," he said solemnly as they reached the outside.

Wincing, Raven looked up.

They stood on the corner of what looked like a busy street, many cars—all glinting like new in the sun—moving through the intersection. There was only the slight smell to the air, and it was the smell of fall flowers blooming in planters that lined the sidewalks. People looked as if they had nowhere to be when they walked, like they had all the time in the world. The light changed and a mass of people crossed the street just as the organized line of cars shifted into motion.

"I lied," Jason breathed quietly into her ear. "No one uses knives, _or_ machetes… or chainsaws…"

Raven swatted him away from her. "You disgust me."

He pretended to curtsy. "Why, thank you," he giggled in falsetto. "I disgust me, too!"

She sighed and looked around again. "Where are we going?"

"This way, this way," he directed, linking his sleeved arm in hers. She yanked away but still trailed behind. "You're no fun!" he smiled, breathing in the fresh scent of a garden as they passed. "You might as well try to enjoy yourself… I know! Let's go out for lunch before we begin our escapades!"

"What? No—that wouldn't be-"

"Fine. What did _you_ have for breakfast?"

Raven sighed. "Herbal tea."

"And I had nothing! So let's get lunch!"

Before she could object, she found herself sitting across from him in a small café. She checked her watch. "Quarter after one," she muttered. "Are you so sure I'll be home by four?"

"No," Jason replied with a grin. "But since you're so willing to get to the investigating-"

"Hello, Miss; Sir," a cheery waitress called, rushing over to the table. "What would you two lovebirds like?"

Raven choked on her words. "We're not-"

"We'd like the usual, thank you," Jason ordered coolly, handing the menus to the woman with a smile.

"The usual?" Raven wondered as soon as the waitress walked away. "What is _the usual_? And why does this feel like some cheesy blind date movie?"

"'Cause it is." He pointed to carious corners of the ceiling. "See? There's a hidden camera there… and there… and _that_ one's high-quality!"

"Why did I even bother to agree to this?" she groaned. "Can we at least discuss something useful?"

"Sure—what's your favorite color?"

"Blue, obvio—I said _useful_!"

Jason brushed a strand of black hair out of his eyes, strangely serious. "Right, then. What did the mask of _your_ Red X look like?"

"Like the one you held up," she answered easily. "Wouldn't they be the same?"

"No—I mean, describe it."

Blinking in confusion, she complied. "Alright. Well, it was white on the front—skeletal, almost—and the back was black. Three black lines on the bottom…"

He nodded. "And the x?"

She thought for a moment, imagining the mask. "It was on the forehead, reaching across the… left eye."

Jason's gaze snapped up to hers. "What?"

"The x. It went across the left eye. Why?"

He drew an imaginary x over his face and grimaced. "Because my mask has it through my right eye. That's why the kid didn't steal my mask."

"But where did he-"

"The usual, Jason," a different waitress interrupted, setting two large frothy glasses and a pizza down on the table. "How typical," she laughed.

"Thanks, Monica. I'm betting you're the only one who even knows what my usual is."

She nodded and then gestured towards Raven. "She's what's _atypical_, though. You've never brought a girl here before. I thought you said-"

"I lied," he said quickly. "Now, then. Monica, this is Raven. Raven; Monica."

With a suspicious glance at Jason, Monica grinned. "Hello," she giggled politely. "I have to get back to work, but it was very nice meeting you!" She dipped her head and rushed off to another table.

"That was… weird," Raven commented, narrowing her eyes. "What didn't you want her to say?"

Jason took a piece of pizza slowly in procrastination. "Well," he began, only to take a bite of the slice to keep from having to talk.

"Something you didn't want me to hear?" she guessed, pulling a glass towards her. "And what sort of drink _is_ this?"

"A rootbeer float. But technically, it's the ice cream that floats, not the rootbeer… Try it! They're really good, here especially."

She took a hesitant sip of it. "It _is_ good. But you haven't yet answered why you didn't want me to hear what she had to say."

He shrugged, taking another bite. Finally gulping it, he answered, "I know I haven't. I don't really want to. It has nothing to do with what we're trying to accomplish today."

"I think it's relevant," she argued. "_Very_ relevant, since you don't want to tell me."

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes after finishing the piece of pizza. "You know what I think?" he asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

"No; what do you think?" she snapped sarcastically. "Do you _even_ think?"

"Yes, actually, I do. And I think… you're hungry!" He held up a slice of pepperoni with a large grin plastered across his face. His grey eyes flickered with humor when she took it, sighing.

After a few minutes had passed, Raven muttered, "You know, you are very possibly the most spastic person I've ever met."

"I'll… take that as a compliment?"

"Don't. Can't we just get to investigating the crime? It's already almost quarter to two!"

Jason groaned. "Raven, you haven't noticed, have you?"

"Noticed what? Your idiocy?"

"You haven't noticed that every time you tell me that we should be _investigating_, I always find a way to deter us further?"

She slumped in her chair. "Yes, I noticed. I was hoping you weren't doing it deliberately."

"Well, you should stop hoping," he said, spooning a ball of ice cram out of his rootbeer. "But I guess we _should_ continue on with _something useful_…" He looked up at her accusingly. "If you want to ask me something, go ahead, since I figure you'll just be too distracted by your doubts of me to actually focus your all on the _real_ threat. And plus, I'm sure questions like 'Why are you a thief?' are just _itching_ in your throat."

Raven put down her half-eaten piece of pizza—her hunger was generally nonexistent, anyway—and pushed her plate away from her. "You're really good at putting words—or questions—in other peoples' mouths."

He nodded in agreement, sitting back in his chair and gesturing for her to continue.

"I'll just start with the one you suggested: Why _are_ you a thief?"

"How do you mean?"

Bemused, she cleared her throat. "I mean… why are you a thief? You have other skills, I'm sure." She stopped herself. "Answer that, but also… I know _you_ know you're good at what you do. _Great_ at it. Better than Robin, quite honestly, although he-"

He held up a hand to interrupt. "How am I better than Robin? And why would you admit that? You're on his team!"

She shrugged. "Because you _are_. I mean at the whole crime thing. He tried that a few times, remember… But he could never really be good at stealing." She covered her mouth to hide a momentary chuckle and then said, "He had too much loyalty to Starfire, although he'll never admit that."

"He should just kiss her already. Or at least ask her out." Jason rolled his eyes. "Or does the 'love is a weakness' rule apply to him? 'Never get close to anyone,' right?"

She nodded. He didn't need to know how Star learned English, at any rate. "Moving on, though, I'm curious why you don't move up to bigger crimes. Do you know the Hive Five?"

"There are six of them, right? Split up recently because the girl got a good-guy boyfriend?"

Raven narrowed her eyes. "I hadn't heard about that, but… Whatever. Anyway, a few months ago, they were making their larcenies bigger, stealing things that are more expensive, etcetera, etcetera. If you're so good at stealing stuff, why don't you upgrade your thefts as well?"

He pursed his lips, staring at her earnestly until he spoke. "It disgusts me that you think I'm in this for greed. I'm not really a greedy person. I take things I need and need the things I take. When you get to my apartment, you'll generally see nothing but things that were there to begin with. You don't usually see me stealing things, do you?"

"Very true," she agreed. "It's a rare occurrence."

"That's because when I steal, I take money from banks and the occasional fuel for my suit. Which, by the way, is not that same crazy element Robin used for it. That stuff got so hard to come by—Chang disappeared from the market. And it was too dangerous anyway… Nevertheless, I try not to take more than I need."

"So you're good at being a villain, but you don't do it often? Even for—" She winced. "—the thrill?"

"The thrill disappears when you take it seriously."

Raven thought of another question. "Why do you have this need for things, anyway? What happened to your parents?"

His smile became twisted. "I was aiming not to bore you with a sob story. Really, I was aiming to avoid this area of questions."

"I'm sor-"

"I'll tell you, but I'll keep it quick. My father passed away when I was eight and mother's death followed soon after. Dad because of an accident, Mom of her own choice."

She looked away, cheeks burning, wishing she had never asked. _'Of her own choice?' He has a very practiced, clean way of avoiding the term 'suicide'…_

The sound of coins dropping onto the table made her head jerk up. Wordlessly, Jason left the payment for the meal on the table and pulled Raven out of the café door.

She was surprised by his grip. Rather, what surprised her was that he chose to wear black gloves that reached under the wrists of his shirt and ran up his arm a considerable length. They were a strange fabric: almost like silky leather.

"You should pay attention to where you're going," Jason stated, bringing her back. "Or else you'll run into people."

"Sorry—I was just thinking."

"About what? My mother or my gloves?"

She reflexively recoiled and brought her gaze down to the sidewalk, shivering slightly at the newly realized November chill.

"I hate it when people get all quiet and sentimental as soon as someone mentions death. And suicide," he added with an unexpected laugh. "You should've seen one woman at my mother's funeral. I was only nine at the time, of course, but I can still remember this particular family friend. I was up at the podium, just reading a speech off a little card I had written for myself. I mentioned the word suicide once—just once—and the crowd all seemed to gasp at once. Anyway, the woman was standing off to the side of me, waiting to give her own speech, when I said it. It was actually comical—she just cried out, 'They _told_ the boy!' and fainted. The ushers all ran to catch her. I never did finish that speech because of the fuss. Obviously, I was the talk of the funeral gathering. 'Martha, did you hear?' 'Yes, of course I did! He knows how his mother died!' 'Heavens, I overheard the police talking, and they said he was the one who _found_ her, all blo-'"

His retelling cut off there. They walked in silence until Raven finally spoke. "I will admit, I was thinking about how terrible that must've been for you… and I may have been imagining the reason for your gloves."

A smile flitted quickly back into its place on Jason's face as they began crossing a small street. "I figured. You were staring at them as if they were venom-spitting cobras or something. Don't worry. They're not for hiding scars caused when I supposedly snuck into Star's room. And no, they weren't bitten and mangled by those evil venom-spitting cobras, sneaky devils that they are."

"I'm sure you would know," she replied. A tickle in her throat made her cough once, twice, and then she almost doubled over in a coughing fit.

"Raven?" Jason assisted her to the other side of the street, looking down worriedly at her. "Do you need something to drink? My apartment is on the eighth floor of this building right here. I'm sure there's…" He stopped, watching helplessly as a violent tremble heaved her forward.

The coughs subsided as he began pulling her through the building's door. She straightened, a hand clapped over her mouth. Pulling it away for just a second, she muttered, "I think I'm going to throw up…"

"This way, this way," he directed, an arm around her back. "Bathroom; garbage can; floor?"

She responded with a violent cough, her hand still clamped to her face. "Jason!" she groaned miserably.

Shoving through a door marked _Janitor_, he led her to a large garbage can on wheels. "Voila."

"Move," she ordered, pushing him aside forcefully and leaving over the garbage.

Jason turned away in disgust, hearing her retch several times, although he turned back to her to put a comforting hand on her back.

"Finished?" he said gently after the vomiting had slowed, offering a nearby roll of paper towels.

She spat into the garbage and then wiped her mouth in an attempt to rid herself of the taste. "Thanks," she murmured. Every muscle seemed to become tense and shake at once. An involuntary tremor made her stumble.

"Forget searching for fingerprints," Jason said almost inaudibly, and he prodded her into an open elevator as soon as she was balanced again. "You're a complete disaster."

"No!" She wiped cold beads of sweat from her forehead. "I refuse to-"

"Stop being stubborn, dammit! You're sick! And it's probably my fault—something at the café…"

"Or… Beast Boy's tofu waffles..."

"Come on," he insisted, leading her out of the elevator at the eighth floor. He unlocked the only door available other than a storage closet and practically dragged her inside.

Raven hummed at the sudden warmth, unable to process what was going on. Her words were slightly slurred. "This isn't right… We need to catch the jerk who… who… who…"

She slumped back against Jason, instantly unconscious. He caught her reflexively. "Raven?" He swore and tapped her cheek with two gloved fingers. "Out cold…?"


	6. Toast to the Family

**Chapter Six: Toast to the Family**

The blaring red digits of an alarm clock stung her half-open eyes. Raven pushed herself up in a sitting position, blinking back the imprinted red '11:38' with a languid stretch of her arms. Groaning slightly, she rubbed her eyes and looked around the room.

The walls were creamy white and the carpet looked as new as the untouched furniture sitting atop it. A mirror image of herself stared at her from above the chestnut vanity—she was surprised at how dazed she looked with her messy hair, glazed eyes, and the dab of droll on the edge of her lips.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her bare hand, she looked to the door that was beside the bed she occupied. A slight noise came from behind it, and suddenly something grey flashed out under it. Just as quickly, it snapped away, but not before she realized that it was a cat's paw.

Raven crept out of the bed and—marveling at how uncomfortable it was to sleep in jeans—grabbed the doorknob to pull it open. A hiss from below made her jump.

A small, grey kitten was sitting at her feet. It looked up at her with a pitiful meow and then licked its paw to wipe its face.

"Hello?" Raven called, picking up the tiny animal gently. She ventured out of the room and into the hallway with the kitten comfortably lying in her arms. She scratched it between the ears and stumbled down the hallway. "Hello?"

A slip of paper pinned to the wall with a silver knife caught her attention, although she wasn't exactly sure if it was the paper or the weapon that did.

She pulled the knife out and placed it on the table next to the leather couch sitting in the middle of the adjoining room. She sat herself on a chair and, letting the kitten onto her lap, began reading the paper.

_Raven,_ it said. _Stay at the apartment. I'll be back soon (I'm 'running an errand', I guess you could say.), and plus—it's raining. Feel free to meet Darby (she's the kitty who you've probably already met, if she's being social tonight) while you're waiting… and I there's some food in the kitchen, if you're hungry. Like I said, you should stay there—Mr. Businessman might be on the train again! Your favorite person; X._

"Mr. Businessman?" she wondered aloud, and then remembered the man on the train with a shiver. Forcing her mind off him, she looked down at the cat now sitting expectantly on the arm of the chair. "Darby, hunh?"

The cat twitched its ear.

"Well, whatever." She reached over to pick up the knife. She turned it around, inspecting the blade and the Chinese inscriptions on it. "Why would he have this?" She tossed it in her palm, weighing it. _Hm… Lightweight, and it looks slightly…_ She grimaced at a crusty red substance toward the hilt of it. _Slightly used…_

A knock on the door made her freeze unwillingly and accidentally brush the blade against her skin. A drop of blood oozed onto her finger.

"Raven," Jason's voice called as he opened the door. He froze, his eyes moving from the silver knife to her cut. "What're you…?" He left off and stood there in silence, watching her with a curious stare.

"Sorry!" she yelped and dropped the blade back onto the table. "I was just interested in… it…"

"Is your cut bad?" Jason asked, dropping a white plastic bag onto the floor before reaching for her hand.

The unusual fabric of his gloves made her jerk away. "It's fine, really. I should be going—Robin's going to kill me anyways for not reporting where I-"

"He won't kill _you_," he interrupted, turning away to rush into a room Raven's hadn't noticed. He came back out a minute later with a bottle of antiseptic and a box of band-aids. "See, he'll just kill _me_."

"Why?" Raven asked distantly, taking the supplies and bandaging her cut properly. "He doesn't even _know_ you… Well, not _you_ you, at least."

"So you think!" He laughed. He took the white bag he had dropped and, sitting on the cough with a sigh, handed it to her. "I just paid a little visit to your Tower… and to Robin. He knows where you are—albeit the exact location—and that you'll be back when you're back. When did you wake up?"

"A few minutes ago—Wait! Does Robin know that you're Red X?"

"Not exactly," he chuckled, wetting his lips. "He really didn't even see me. It was too dark in your bedroom."

"You were in my room?" she exploded, slamming the box of band-aids to the floor with her powers. "_Why_?"

With a smile, he gestured to the back, which she didn't even have to touch to tear it open. Inside were an assortment of jeans, a long black skirt, a few dark shirts, and one of her uniforms as well as a ball of what looked like pajamas. "You're going to have to sleep here tonight, you know. The trains stopped at ten, and you'll probably pass out again from exhaustion if you fly home—or walk home, dare I say."

"But—" She left off, leaning back in her chair, swallowing. "True."  
"You were out for a long time," he said quietly. Seriousness took over his face again. "And you actually got sort of delusional at one point."

Raven lifted a brow. "What?"

"You woke up at… I don't know, six-ish, and you just sat there, staring and being really creepy, mumbling like some already-dead mental patient. I was freaked out, quite honestly." His hand covered his eyes, a chuckle forming in his throat. "Now, it sounds pretty funny, but…" Looking up, he noticed Raven wasn't watching him. He followed her gaze to the large picture hanging at a slight slant on the wall.

"Is that your family?" she wondered, noticing his silence.

"Uh…" He seemed uncertain. "Yeah, they're my family…"

"You told me about you parents, I know, but… is that your brother?"

Jason got to his feet suddenly, catching her attention. Darby hissed at him as he passed by in a rush. His silver eyes seemed a dull grey. "He's gone," he answered and went through a door that had stood ajar until that point.

Raven bit her lip, wanting to pry but knowing that she couldn't. "When?" Her eyes fell again onto the picture of the handsome older gentleman, his fashionably dressed wife, and two black-haired, silver-eyes boy standing, grinning, with them.

"You two look so much alike," she commented without demanding an answer.

A pause, and then, "Yeah."

Just then, an enticing aroma floated into the room. "Jason?" she asked, wandering through the doorway.

"Want some?" he asked with a strained grin.

"Some of what?"

"Toast!" he chuckled just as the toasted popped from the counter. He buttered the four slices quickly as she watched, bemused. "Here." He dropped two of the slices onto a separate plate and handed it to her.

"If you don't mind me asking," she began once they had both seated themselves on the couch. Seeing Jason wince, she changed her question. "What happened at the Tower?"

Taking a savage bite of the bread, he began laughing, this time heartily. "Well, I suppose you _should_ know…"


	7. Stupid, Stupid Robin

Thank you, everyone, for the comments… you really make my day. I love how random some of you are… group glomp

(Now, rewind a bit—before the last chapter—and get your mind set for Robin's take on things…)

**Chapter Seven: "Stupid, Stupid Robin…"**

The minute Robin heard a noise from Raven's room, he rushed to her door and opened it, his whole speech planned out perfectly. _Raven!_ he would begin. _When Starfire said you would spend the_—

He stopped, looking up into the bewildered silver eyes of a black-haired teenager. "Uh, hi," the boy said.

Robin clenched his fists, his adrenaline already pounding in his ears. "What're you doing in Raven's room?" he asked briskly in a voice so low the teenager raised a brow.

"Getting her some clothes," he answered simply.

"Why would you need to do that?" His birdarang clicked, ready, in his hand. "Where is she?"  
"My apartment. It's a few miles from here."

"Again, _why_?"

"Uh…" He looked amused. "Because she got sick and fainted there, and I couldn't find it in me to wake her up and tell her to go home…? She's completely safe there; don't worry. I'm guessing she'll be back tomorrow sometime."

"And who are _you_?"

"Figured you'd ask that. Thing is," he smiled, "I don't know what to tell you, so let's just say my name is Jason."

"Alright, _Jason_, how did you get into the Tower?"

He hesitated. Eventually, he shrugged. "I snuck in. Your security system stinks. I mean, anyone with a slight knowledge of computer coding could hack it. Of course, I didn't hack anything. I just crept in from the roof."

"How did you get on the roof?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" Jason laughed, turning his back on Robin and walking back to Raven's bed, where a white plastic bag and a pile of clothes lay. "I'll be on my way, if you'll excuse me…"

Jason heard a whirring noise and suddenly a string wrapped around his entire being. "Oh, great," he smirked, looking down at the birdarang when it caught on the string, keeping him from moving. He looked over her shoulder at Robin. "Dude, you're going to have to let me go."

"Do you realize breaking and entering is a crime, _Jason_?"

"Uh, yeah, _Robin_. Can you let me go now?"

The Boy Wonder shook his head smugly. "No way."

"You're choice," he warned. With great difficulty, he managed to take something from his pocket.

_Switchblade!_ Robin mentally yelled, stepping forward when Jason easily cut through the wires. "Drop the blade," he ordered.

"No thanks—I happen to like this one." He continued walking to the bed and then packed the clothes into the bag, his attention not even remotely on Robin.

"You're incredibly cocky," Robin chastised, crossing his arms. "I'm blocking the only way out."

"I know," he grinned distantly. "So?"

"You can't get past me."

"It sounds as if _you're_ the cocky one. And anyway, I can make you move without fighting." Jason picked up the bag and started towards the door. "Hey, Robin?"

"What." _Not a question._

"Would you still kill me if I said I was Red X, but not the one who assaulted Star?"

Robin tensed, one hand curling into a fist and the other reaching for three disks—one smoke, one eyes, and one filled with a sticky, blobby substance. "Not the right one?" he growled, dropping into a sparring stance. "I'm the only Red X who didn't do anything to Starfire."

"What if you're wrong?" asked Jason innocently, still advancing slowly. "What if there are three X's? What if you killed the wrong one? Because if you kill me, then you might not get some information about who you really _should_ be after."

"The only X's, _Jason_, are in this room."

Jason looked over one shoulder, and then the other, and looked back at Robin with a bemused expression. "No. One's missing. Or don't you listen?"

Robin gritted his teeth. "I'm fed up with your disgustingly twisted nonsense. Let's—"

"Hi, Starfire!" Jason called with a smile and a friendly wave to the open door. "How're you?"

Robin swore and spun around, looking at the door.

No one was there.

"You fell for that?" Jason cackled from behind him. A gloved hand snaked around his neck, and just when Robin expected a blade against his throat, he felt a fist on the top of his head. "You're such an idiot!"

"You!" he roared, spinning around and punching… air. His opponent was standing a foot back, but rushed forward again when the fist had passed.

"Yes, I. Au revoir, Robin, but we'll be seeing each other soon!" And as Jason stepped around him, he raised a hand to the back of Robin's head and kissed him gently on the lips. Cracking a grin, he shoved the Titan away forcefully and winked. "Adios!"

Robin's face flushed as he sat where he had tripped, watching the door close behind X. _What the hell?_ He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand in repulsion. Finding himself unable to find the will to move, he just sat there in shock.

_If that was X, why did he kiss me?_

_Red X got away again! But… why is Raven at his apartment anyway? Why did she get sick?_

_Why did he _kiss_ me?_

_And what did he mean by a third Red X?_

_How did Raven even meet up with X?_

_Why did he _kiss_ me!_

Robin groaned just as the door opened again.

"Robin?" a sweet voice wondered.

"Hey, Starfire." He waved a hand slightly.

"Are you ill? May I also inquire why you are in Raven's room?"

He sighed, standing shakily. "I'm not sick. At least, not literally. And it doesn't matter why I'm in here. I was just being stupid."

"Yes," came a voice different from Starfire's.

He jerked his head up. "What?"

"I said," she repeated slyly, "Yes. Because, honestly, Robin, you're good at being stupid." She smiled cruelly and extended a hand. For a moment it was still, but then the skin began to ripple and he watched in horror as she slowly took on the appearance of a brown-haired, hazel-eyed teenager.

"Who the f-"

"Like I said," he taunted, extending a hand and drawing a syringe from his pocket with the other. "Stupid, stupid Robin."

Robin struggled against an imaginary force that held him in place, unable even to move his fingers. _Shit!_

The boy came closer, leaning in and whispering in his ear. "You know, I overheard your conversation with Jason. He was right, you know. _I'm_ the third Red X. But no—you couldn't just trust a nice guy when you see one. So instead I have to come in here and teach you a lesson before moving on to the more prettier part of the hallway—Starfire's room."

_Shit!_

"Stupid, stupid Robin…"

Something pricked his neck, and slowly everything began to blur. Robin felt the syringe's contents flowing through his jugular vein and into his entire system.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Red X said with a harsh giggle. "I gave Raven a bit of that and she got sick and fainted. Let's see how you handle six times the amount I gave her." He dropped his hand and Robin felt himself drop to the floor. "See ya… or not…"

Robin clambered to his feet, clutching his neck. The boy had somehow disappeared, but he heard singing in the hallway.

"Titans," he shouted hoarsely, falling onto the hallway carpet, feeling foam come from his mouth. "Titans!"

"Robin? Dude!" Beast Boy was looking down at him when Robin's arms gave out and he dropped even lower onto the carpet. "Cyborg! Starfire! Someone! Get down here!"

"Man, what're you—Robin!"

"Poison," Robin whispered. A thought rushed through his mind. _If these are my dying words…_ "Third X! Get Raven and… Jason…" His stomach heaved and its contents spilled onto the carpet, sickeningly bitter in his mouth.

"What'd he say?"

"Dude, he said _poison_, _third X_, and something about Rav—"

"Friends? What is-"

"Starfire, get Raven over here, _now_!"

"Oh! Robin! He is—"

"Star, _go_!"

"Cy, I think he's…"

Robin's vision flashed black and white and he coughed something salty. _Blood…?_ he wondered faintly.

His eyes slipped back into his head, and all the voices faded…

————————

The eight chapter is just waiting to be posted, so once I know a few people have read _this_ chapter, I'll update.


	8. A Little Too Easy

Like I said, this was dying to be posted, so here it is… Chapter Eight.

**Chapter Eight: A Little Too Easy**

Raven took another sip of her tea and shook her head. "I still can't believe you kissed him. That's _so_ weird."

Jason grinned, shrugging. "Hey. I _told_ him I had a way to make him move without fighting. I mean, he practically told me to-"

A loud beeping interrupted his comment. Raven leapt to her feet and rushed to her communicator, which was still on the nightstand in the bedroom. "Raven," she reported.

"Friend, you _must_ come back to the Tower immediately! Robin has been poisoned by someone and he is currently in the Infirmary with Cyborg and Beast Boy, but they need your expertise with healing!" A tear rolled down her cheek. "Please, Raven! I fear that Robin will-"

"Wait," Raven said, glancing at Jason as he walked in the door. "You said he was _poisoned_? By _who_?"

"We… we do not know! But it is not important—Raven, his life… I am afraid he will not…" She hiccupped.

"Starfire, get in here!" Cyborg said from off screen. "We need to control his convul-"

The screen went black. "Convul…sions…" Raven finished with a desperate look at Jason. "I _need_ to get back." She shoved him out of her way, racing for the door. She was halfway down the hallway outside the room when he called her name.

"Raven, stop!"

She spun on him. "My powers probably aren't stable enough to fly there, so if I _stop_, I won't make it in time!"

"You can't make it in time with the train, either!" he argued.

Her shoulders dropped. "I know! There isn't any way to get there in time, but I have to-"

His fist slammed into an unpainted wall, and when it pulled away, a small _x_ was stuck there. The points of it spread, the middle opening into a dark room that Raven recognized as a storage closet within the Tower. "Inter-dimensional travel fast enough for you?"

She gaped at him, but grabbed his gloved wrist and dragged him through the portal. "I'll ask later," she growled, looking over her shoulder as it closed behind them.

"Fair enough."

She let him go and ran to the Infirmary, nearly breaking open the door. "What happened?" she gasped, rushing to where the rest of the Titans stood.

"How'd you get here so—"

"Beast Boy, shut it," Cyborg yelled from his place at the monitors. "Rae, we need an antidote or something to get this thing out of his bloodstream.

"What poison?"

"We have no idea," he hurriedly sighed.

"Hold on," Jason interrupted.

"Jason," Raven yelped. "You can't do anything. Just leave it-"

"No… This poison. I recognize the effects. You said convulsions, correct?"

Raven nodded, glancing at Cyborg for affirmation.

"But now Robin's completely still, besides some breathing. It's a poison that's mostly found in-"

"We don't care where it's found!" Beast Boy snapped. "How do we treat it?"

"No known cure. But don't worry too much—it won't kill him unless you _try_ to cure him. It may weaken his resilience, but-"

"What _are_ you talking about?"

Jason didn't answer right away. He leaned over Robin, fingering the edge of his mask. With a happy look to Raven, he asked, "Want to see what color his eyes are?"

"No!" she shouted, yanking him away. "What else do you know about the poison?"

"Fine, fine, spoil my fun." His face became solemn again. "It's a poison that's used in secretive killings. When administered, it doesn't kill the person—it just gives them symptoms of other poisons. The people who try to get the poison out often give the person drugs, which are unneeded and have no effect on what's going on. Thing is, the doctors—or whoever—give the person so many different 'curing' drugs to calm the effects of the harmless poison that the doctors themselves actually kill the patient from overdosing. Too much of a good thing…"

"There's no such poison—" Beast Boy was cut off when the monitors suddenly grew quiet, aside from the noises of an even heartbeat.

"Vitals… completely normal," Cyborg said quietly, glaring at Jason. "Assuming you're right, _whoever_ you are, what was the point of giving Robin the poison in the first place? I mean, if it didn't do anything… We didn't have enough time to give him anything, anyway. Unless the person made a mistake with the amount they gave-"

"No," Jason interrupted again. "If they're dealing with this kind of poison, well… let's just say you don't make mistakes with this stuff."

Raven opened her mouth to inquire why he presumed that when Starfire spoke in answer to Cyborg's question.

"He is… toying with us," she said carefully, standing next to Robin's bed, holding his hand.

"He?" Beast Boy scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, Star, do you think it's the same person who… uh… broke into your room?"

She hesitated to answer, and when she did, she ran her fingers down the side of Robin's face. "Yes."

"It's a distinct possibility," Cyborg agreed. "If Star's right, the guy could be trying to mess with us."

"Attempted rape and poisoning isn't _messing_ with us," Raven interrupted. "Whoever's doing this either really wants Starfire, or he wants us all gone."

"Or he could want your tofu," Jason laughed. He received a smack from the clipboard Raven grabbed from the counter.

"How did you know we had tofu?" Beast Boy said, leaning forward, hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed in what was meant to be a threatening manner. "Just who _are_ you, anyway? And why was Raven with you?"

"I think Robin needs your attention more than I do," Jason reminded him, backing out the door. "And why not ask your own teammate? Raven," he laughed, nodding to her as if to say, _How about_ you _explain…_

"Wait!" Cyborg growled, raising his arm-turned-sonic-cannon.

"No," Raven ordered. She reached out and pushed his arm down until it pointed at the carpet. "It doesn't matter. Robin knows him, and so do I. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be back late tomorrow. Make sure you go through the procedures every few hours with Robin, Cyborg—check his vitals, try to get him to eat something light when he wakes up, start an IV if you need to."

"I _know_ what to do, but who-"

"Don't worry about this idiot. Good _night_." She shoved Jason out the door and down to the closet with the portal in it. Following him through, she waited impatiently for him to get the door open, staring at him as he did. There was silence as she picked up the bag with her clothes in it and rushed to what had become her room.

She heard him say hello to Darby and then knock on her door with a questioning, "Raven?"

"What?" she snapped, tearing the bag open with her powers and dumping the clothes onto the dresser. "Wait a minute," she muttered beneath her breath. She held up a pair of pajamas, silk black and laced at the cuffs of the sleeves and the ends of the pants. "I _had_ these?" The comment was mostly to herself.

"Yeah, you did. They were buried, but I figured it was better than sleeping in any of those fancy dresses or _extremely_ short nightgowns. Did you know some of those enchantingly gothic things actually have corsets?"

"You raided my entire closet, didn't you? Nevermind—I don't really care." She finished buttoning the black silk top and then threw open the door. She was surprised that he wasn't standing right in front of her, and looked to her right, into his room, where he was quickly throwing on a loose grey t-shirt. Just before the fabric covered him, she thought she saw black marks on his back—scars, almost. Raven narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of it.

"What?" Jason asked, ushering her into the living room. "Are you staring at my extremely buff, disgustingly muscled bod-"

"Shut up, will you?" Sinking into the couch, rubbing her temples, she said, "You still need to clarify how you firstly opened up an inter-dimensional portal without the presence of spells or magic, and then how you knew so much about that poison."

"It all worked out, didn't it? Why question my methods? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!"

"It _did_ work out, but… you were in and out of the Tower before anyone found Robin, right? You could've told me something different than what actually happened, you know!"

"Yes, but when Robin wakes up—"

"But that won't be for a while!"

"I told you what really happened—how could I have injected him with the poison if all I did was talk to him?"

She glared at him, thinking before she answered. "Maybe you had it in your mouth when you kissed him! I don't know! _You're_ the one who did it!"

"I did nothing of the sort!"

Raven's eyes flickered black and the lights began to flicker. "How do I know that?"

He gritted his teeth and took a step away from her, picking up the knife from the table and brandishing it smoothly. "Because I said so. And if you have such a problem with believing me, then you can get out of my apartment!"

Raven's eyes were searching him as he spoke until they rested upon his hands—neither of which were gloved. "That's odd," she murmured, and reached for the hand that didn't hold a knife.

The knife clattered to the floor and Jason jumped back, stumbling away farther than necessary. "Don't _touch_ me!" he yelled. His face pick up a distinct pallor, his breathing suddenly unsteady and his silver eyes flitting nervously from Raven to his bedroom. He sidled to the doorway and slammed the door on Raven.

"Jason?" she asked, her anger subsiding. There was a loud click, and then another—he had double-locked his door.

And on the other side of that door, Jason was bent forwards on his hands and knees. A cold sweat ran down his forehead. _That was too close,_ he thought weakly. He raised a trembling hand to his face and made it into a fist. _Definitely too close._

————————

Bruhaha. I love Jason. And Cameron. And all the intricate mysteries that surround them.


	9. Living the Reality of Death in Dreams

Someone once said, after reading this, that I was the only person strange enough to fit _reality_, _dreams_, _death_, and _living_ in the title, and have it make sense. I just shook my head and laughed.

**Chapter Nine: Living the Reality of Death in Dreams**

Raven sat up in bed. _He's here_, she thought, looking to her left where a figure stood, leaning forward, his palms on the bed.

"Hello, sweetheart," he smiled, his hazel eyes glinting. He brushed his brown hair away from his eyes, standing up as Raven gawked at him. "Now, don't be alarmed, nothing bad is going to happen to you…" He cracked a grin. "I mean, you won't _die_ or anything. You might get… _cut up_ a little, I admit. No poison tonight, I promise. But it wouldn't matter—your little Jason friend seems pretty wise when it comes to the effects of poisons." He laughed softly, looking out the window for a moment, and then moving his gaze back to Raven. "Although I don't know how much help he would be dead."

She didn't see him move, but somehow the tip of a silver blade was against her cheek, cutting her slightly. She pulled away, but that was all she could do. She couldn't move anything but her eyes, which were looking down at the blood-covered hilt of the dagger. She jerked her head up at him. _That's Jason's…_

"Killed by his own knife," the teenager remarked with a sickening grin. "How ironic… Anyway, I came to ask you something, and he got in the way…" He shook his head in mock sadness. "Isn't it surprising how much a person can _bleed_ after they stop moving? I mean, I just couldn't resist cutting his wrists—to blame the death on suicide—but his jugular vein just screamed, 'Cut me!' so I obviously had to…"

"You're disgusting!" she wanted to yell and then fight him, but her body didn't respond to her thoughts.

"And here I thought you'd be noisy!" The thought of her unpredicted silence apparently amused him, as he doubled over in laughter.

A few moments later, he stood up straight again, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "Anyway, though, like I was saying, I need to ask you a question—_which_, I might add, is important if you want your friends alive. Robin and Starfire, I mean. Do you think," he paused for a second, bending down to be at her eye level, "that Starfire would kill herself if Robin was gone? I mean, it's imperative that I know! If I get rid of Robin and then lose Starfire, all this would be worth nothing, right? But if I keep Robin alive, in manacles in all, and let Starfire do what she pleases with him one day a week, she wouldn't be so unhappy… correct?"

Frustrated that she couldn't gesture or answer, Raven shut her eyes.

"Oh, you're still being silent?" he asked. "Well, I have ways of getting an answer…"

She winced as he harshly grabbed her chin, the tip of Jason's knife tracing a line down her cheek. _What—?_

"I'm drawing an x," he stated, pulling the blade away when it got close to her chin and then cutting another line perpendicular to the first, starting at her cheekbone.

_Get away!_ Raven shuddered as a drop of blood trailed down her cheek and then continued down her neck.

"Should I do the other cheek, too?"

—

Jason groaned as quiet footsteps brought him into consciousness. He sighed into his pillow and lifted himself off the bed, looking over at the clock. _Why would Raven be wandering around?_

He shrugged and rubbed his eye. _I wonder if she needs something…_

Finding that as motivation, he threw on the grey t-shirt again and then his gloves and staggered into the hallway. No lights were on, but he could see Raven standing be the couch his both hands raised to her face. She seemed to sway drunkenly and then catch herself without actually moving.

"Is something wrong?" he asked quietly, walking closer. Something dripped from her face—tears?

His eyes landed on something long in her moving hand, the end touching her cheek.

_Oh my god._

"Raven," he said slowly, turning her towards him.

Her eyes were closed tightly, as if in agony, and the tip of his silver knife was crossing an 'x' on her cheek. He attempted to rip her hands away from her face, but she was stronger than she looked.

"Raven!" he shouted, shaking her.

Her hand drew the blade about an inch away and stopped there, waiting for… something.

"Raven, what the hell are you _doing_?"

—

The teenage boy wiped the blade on the thigh of his jeans and dipped his head to her neck, licking the drop of blood. "I'm so morbid, I surprise _myself_ sometimes… But your blood—it's so _sweet_…"

"_Raven!"_ a voice called—it was Jason's.

"Damn him!" he yelled, suddenly forcing Raven to look him in the eye. "What sort of divine _thing_ is your friend?"

_What?_

"_Raven, what the hell are you_ doing_?"_

"How could he _break_ it?"

"Break what?" Raven asked—aloud. Her voice surprised her, and she opened her eyes… which she didn't think were closed.

"Raven!" Jason yelled, his face an inch from hers. "What are you doing with my knife?"

She stared at him for a second before stumbled away from him in an attempt to gather her surroundings. She was in the main room of Jason's apartment, with Jason himself standing a few feet away glaring furiously at her. "But he said you were dead," she tried to reason, spinning around.

Behind her, he shouted, "Who said that? What're you talking about breaking things? And could you _please_ fill me in as you why you were drawing on your face with my knife?"

"Drawing on my…" She stopped, looking down at her subconsciously raised hand. Her fingers gripped the hilt of the weapon tightly—her knuckles had turned even more pale.

The knife clattered to the ground, but dark crimson blood still stained her contrasting fingers.

"Raven?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, raising a hand to her cheek. She knew before even touching it that it was wet with her own blood. "Where is he?"

Jason looked startled. "Where is _who_?"

"That teenager—the brown-haired kid who was just in my room! He said he killed you because you got in the way! He asked me if Starfire would kill herself if Robin died, but I couldn't answer so he cut my face—"

"Raven, no one was here but me," he interrupted. "You… cut yourself."

"Why _would_ I?" she spat, wiping her cheek with the back of her wrist.

"You were asleep… I think… And dreaming of _whoever_ it was…"

"No!" She went past him into the bathroom, splashing water onto the cut to clean it. "See? It's an x! He traced it there—"

"_You_ did it," Jason grimaced. "I'm sure no one was here. I just woke up and saw you cutting yourself with my knife… asleep. And unless he can control dreams…"

"It wasn't a dream!" she answered, spinning on him. "I mean, unless it was _you_…" She narrowed her eyes at the notion. "Maybe it _was_ you…"

"Why would _I_ hurt you?"

Raven bit back an answer. "You're right," she said evenly, dropping her gaze. She turned back to the sink, washed her neck and hands off as well, and then began rifling through the cabinet for a bandage of some sort. "At least the cuts aren't deep… But still. I can't understand how or why I did that… do you have any gauze?"

"I do," Jason said quickly, "But it wouldn't help… unless you want me to wrap your whole face."

"Nevermind, then." She pulled a box of band-aids from a shelf. "These will work. Could you…" she stopped herself from handing one to him. "Forget it, MC Hammer."

"What did you call me?"

She put the large, square bandage on her cheek with great care, then looked at Jason. "You didn't want me to touch you. MC Hammer… 'Can't Touch This'?"

He just stared at her blankly.

"You've never head of…?"

Jason shook his head. "No… should I have?"

"No," she laughed, cracking a small grin.

"Raven!" he abruptly snapped.

She took a step backwards and ran into the sink. "What?"

"You just smiled!"

She threw him a look. "Yeah… so?"

"You're _Raven_! You're not allowed to smile!"

"What? Why?"

"Because you're _Raven_!"

She smiled again, raising a brow and pushing past him to get into the hallway. "What kind of reason is _that_?"

"A _good_ reason!" Jason persisted.

"And what if I _do_ smile?"

He didn't answer right away, but then put his hands on his hips and pointed a gloved finger at her. "Fine, then. Every time you smile, I get to tell you how _cute_ you look."

"Whatever. You'll be wasting your breath on lies, anyway."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Starfire's the 'cute' one of the team. I'm the cute one's friend, remember?"

"No—Beast Boy and Cyborg are the cute one's friends. You're… uh…"

Raven held up a hand. "Wait. What does that make Robin?"

"The cute one's sex slave?" Jason guessed, shrugging. "Oh, wait—or is that just Robin's dream description?"

Raven laughed, shaking her head. "I don't think either of them realizes they like each other yet. They're both so oblivious."

"See?" he shouted accusingly. "You're _smiling_ again! You aren't allowed to smile!"

She sighed, waving her hand at him as she made her way back into her bed. "I am _too_ allowed to smile. I just don't do it much."

"Fine. Then I guess we'll just have to go with my terms!" Jason sat on the bed next to her, leaning closer to her and fluttering his eyelashes. "Raven, my sweet," he swooned. "You are looking absolutely _lovely_ today, as always…"

"Stop it."

"How can I, you gorgeous young woman?"

Raven raised a hand and put her finger close to Jason's face. He jerked away instinctively, getting to his feet. "You stop talking, Mr. Hammer, or I touch you."

"That's completely unfair!" he yelped, leaning back against the wall.

"Not really. You do something I don't like; I do something you don't like."

"Well, then," he grinned mischievously. "Then, technically, you owe me one."

"No—"

He winked, beginning to go out the door. "Don't worry, _beautiful_ Raven, I'll save it for later!"

As he pulled the door shut, Raven rubbed her head. _You can't save it if you don't have it,_ she inwardly groaned, quickly turning her thoughts to the cause of her injury.

She had done it to herself, but… Raven had a sneaking feeling that it had to do with something bigger than sleepwalking.

————————

People always break into Raven's bedroom at Jason's apartment. It must be the hot new trend, or something.

Ta


	10. Incomprehensible Feelings

Bwahaha. I like this chapter. It has to do with Robin-the-arrogant-fool and Starfire-the-delusional-and-bipolar-Tamaranean-princess… I mean… uh… cough

**Chapter Ten: Incomprehensible Feelings**

Starfire's breath made temporary circles of fog on the Infirmary windows. She was leaning her forehead against the glass, her fingers also making marks where they were next to her face. Her eyes, now bloodshot and puffy from crying, had lost their usual glimmer. The brilliant emerald green was dulled and seemed glazed over because of her insomnia.

What bothered her—what kept her awake—wasn't just the fear of another attack on the Titans. It wasn't even the fact that Robin had been poisoned. Robin was healthy now, or at least getting there.

No; it was that outside, the season's first snow fell from the sky, innocence portrayed in every white crystal flake. It fell so softly, so peacefully.

And it enraged her.

How could snow even be _allowed_ to fall when so many terrible things were happening? She herself had been assaulted just last night—a shudder coursed through her body at the mere mention—and Robin had been attacked as well. It was only a matter of time before someone was seriously injured, or…

Starfire flung herself away from the window. _Or killed._ She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus. Her powers could get out of control if she let her fury simmer.

She clasped her hands, sitting herself back into the chair next to Robin's bed. Shifting restlessly, she finally let out a sigh and put her elbows on the bed, leaning on them.

And she waited.

It wasn't until Robin began to stir that she realized she had dozed off into a light sleep. Chastising herself for her idiocy, she wiped saliva from the edge of her mouth. It was unwise of her to fall asleep when Robin's condition wasn't even sure.

But just after she managed to stand and comb her shaky fingers through her hair, Robin grimaced, coming into consciousness. His eyes flashed open behind his mask. His breath was suddenly ragged, his chest heaving. Sweat glimmered on his forehead.

"Robin?"

At her voice, he inhaled sharply and jerked upright, hunching forward, hands over his face. He could hear his harsh breathing, and gave himself a moment before he looked at Starfire.

"Are you well?" she asked unsurely. Her anger at the snowflakes had long since subsided.

Robin could only stand to look at her for a few seconds before he had to turn his gaze away.

"Rob—"

"I'm sorry," he said, his throat burning.

Starfire sat on the edge of the bed, astonished. "But… why? Why must _you_ apologize?" It almost pained her to ask. As soon as she did, Robin closed his eyes, his face contorting into hatred.

But that spite was self-centered. "I promised you that you'd be alright," he spat, and then looked at her. "But I can't even keep myself from getting poisoned. How could I ever protect you from X if I'm not strong—or smart—enough to protect myself? I'm a fool," he hissed, ripping the wires suctioned onto his skin away from him. Stumbling at first, he ambled towards the doorway in sheer stubbornness.

"Robin?"

He stopped in the doorway, his hands curled into fists. "And even worse—I'm an _arrogant_ fool."

Willing to comfort him, Starfire reached out to touch his shoulder. "You are not—"

"I'm weak!" he exploded, making her step away in surprise. "I couldn't beat Slade, and I can't beat… whoever's behind these attacks! They got around me the first time, and even when I was expecting an attack the second time, he got inside the Tower!"

"You are not the one at fault, Robin. Do not be angered with yourself. Be angered at—"

"I'll be _angered_ at whoever I want to be _angered_ with!" he roared, spinning on her. "And right now, I don't even know why I'm _alive_! That poison should've—"

"Jason said that the poison was temporary, and that—"

"That black-haired kid was here? Again?"

"Yes… a-again, I suppose, if he was present—"

"Dammit!" Robin slammed his right fist into the wall, crushing it easily. Starfire gasped.

"Please—why must you—"

"I don't need his help! I don't need anyone's help! I can deal with this on my own!" He glared at Starfire in misdirected anger, grabbing her wrist tightly so that she couldn't get away. "So next time he's here, tell him that I don't want him around! Tell the other Titans to do the same—they aren't even upset about this! And you," he began, narrowing his eyes further. "You shouldn't interfere, either! You'll just be hurt again, and I don't need that right now!"

Starfire's face seemed to freeze for a moment before contorting into fury. "You do not need me to be hurt right now?" she hissed just loudly enough. Ripping her arm from his grasp, she returned his glare. "I should not 'interfere'? Robin, you speak as if it was merely about you, or your pride!" Her voice was louder now, and still growing. "But it is not! I am the one who was assaulted the previous night! You are in the 'perfect condition'! And yet you complain! And you speak of keeping me safe—I am strong enough to keep myself safe, _friend_ Robin!" She spat the last two words forcefully. "Everything must be about you; defeating Slade, or Red X, or _whoever_ you are after!" Tears were dripping down her cheeks now—tears of pent up frustration and anger. "You fail to realize that your teammates suffer because of your ignorance! Robin, _I_ suffer because of your ignorance!"

Robin inhaled sharply. "What?"

"I was in need of your help!" she yelled, eyes flashing. "I am _still_ in need of your help! But you are far too busy with plotting against criminals!" She lowered her voice, and her eyes. "I am… frightened by my placement in the matter. If I am just an inconvenience, perhaps I should not have resisted Red X."

Robin stood completely still, staring at her disbelievingly. "_Why_…?"

"Perhaps he would have taken me away," she snapped, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist. "I would not be in your way any longer. You would be able to fight villains without my hindrance. Is that not what you desire?"

Robin continued to stare at her, mouth open.

"You should not hold your mouth in the open position," Starfire growled, shoving past him. "Flying szarnuuts may make their nests inside. And they would be of even worse _hindrance_ than I am, _dear Robin_."

She stormed to her bedroom, locked the door, and then flicked on the lights, fumbling her way out of her skintight outfit. She left them lying on the floor and crouched next to her dresser, pulling out the last drawer. A pair of loose, purple pajama pants caught her attention, as well as the white camisole folded next to them.

She dressed, twisting her arm into under the straps of the shirt. It took her a minute to straighten everything, comb her hair, and then brush her teeth, and when she was done, she turned off the lights.

After a few minutes of sleeplessness, she sat upright in her bed and swung her legs over the side. It was too dark—she felt the sudden urge to yank open the curtains to see the snow, but then remembered how offensive it was, and decided against it.

So instead, she sat in silence until a voice asked, "What's wrong?"

Starfire stifled a scream. She shoved herself off the bed, backing away until her heel hit the wall. Her gaze locked with that of the brown-haired, hazel-eyed teenager leaning against the far wall. "Do not come closer," she growled, trying to hide her fear with fury. She held out her glowing green hand as a warning, but she couldn't stop it from trembling.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he smiled. She was stunned that the smile was genuine—not cruel at all. "I'm not even going to touch you if you don't want me to."

"Why did you come, then?" Her eyes burned with sudden tears. She blinked them back, keeping her tone steady. "I am wishful of your absence."

He raised a brow, sidling towards the window, although he kept close to the wall. "You want me gone that badly? I just came to… apologize for yesterday… _Was_ it yesterday? I have to admit—it wasn't like me to do that."

"And your attack on Robin?" she asked, puzzled, nearing the door. For every step he had taken, she had taken one as well to keep an equal distance.

"What attack?" He froze, looking at her in real confusion. "I haven't been here since I…" he left off, gesturing towards her. "Again, _sorry_."

"I do not trust your words."

"Of course not," he grimaced. He pushed the curtains aside, and turned to look out the window. "I mean, what I did to you was terrible. I'm just glad your friends interrupted me before I did anything worse."

Starfire relaxed unsurely. She didn't know how he got inside her bedroom, or how she failed to notice him, but his presence was _calming_, somehow. It made her feel warm and lethargic.

"But like I said before," he looked over his shoulder, "What's wrong? Did something bad happen to Robin?"

She shook her head, carefully sitting on her bed again. "No. He is well."

"Did something bad happen _with_ Robin?" He suddenly looked alarmed, and took a few rushed steps towards her. "Did he hurt you?"

"N-no," she said, startled by his abrupt movement. Again, she felt herself wondering why she felt as if she had known him for ever.

"Did you two fight, or something?" he wondered quietly, sitting on the bed a foot from her.

Starfire met his gaze and couldn't tear her eyes away. "Yes," she murmured without thinking.

But when she _did_ think, she couldn't find anything wrong with speaking with him.

"That's terrible," he replied softly, taking her closest hand in both of his. "About what?"

She opened her mouth to answer. Nothing came out, until she hung her head and said, "I do not know."

It wasn't a complete lie—she didn't know the particular details as to why Robin was always angry with himself when he wasn't even the one at risk.

"I'm sorry," he whispered breathily, kissing the back of her hand before standing again. "Should I speak with him before I go?"

"No!" Her tone was desperate for a reason unknown to her. She found herself on her feet, a foot or so away from him. "Please! He would—_will_—hurt you if he were to know that you had…" She paused, searching for the right words. "That you had been in my room," she finished slowly.

"Alright, then—I won't."

Starfire nodded in satisfaction. "I shall bid you the goodnight, then."

"Sleep tight, princess," he chuckled, and then disappeared in the same flash of light.

As soon as he was gone, Starfire seemed to snap back into reality. She fell to the floor, gritting her teeth, glaring at the place he had been. She _hated_ him—for sexually harassing her—and yet… She looked down at her hand where he had touched her.

He had been so warm. So kind. Not cruel, or aggressive, or anything he _had_ been. And she had felt mesmerized by only being close to him.

Next thing Starfire knew, she was under a steady rush of water in her bathroom's shower. She closed her eyes as if waiting for him to come again.

She was terrified that he would. She was terrified that he wouldn't.

She washed her hair slowly, feeling someone watching her. But whenever she turned to look, no one was there.

The soapy water cascaded down off her hair, running in streams down her body. A trickle ran down her neck from behind her ear.

Her eyes shot open and she could swear that she could feel his hand making its way up her stomach, his hot breath on the side of her neck instead of just water.

As she turned to reach for a bar of soap, she slipped back slightly, her back landing against the cool tiles of the wall. An anguished moan escaped her lips and she slid down the cold wall until she sat, hunched over her knees, on the floor of the tub. The bar of soap dropped from her hand, landing on her thigh.

Starfire winced as she reached to pick it up, her fingers trailing momentarily on her bare skin.

The memory wouldn't leave her. He was everywhere, and she couldn't escape.

————————

I have good news, and I have bad news. The bad news is that there won't be another Starfire-oriented chapter until chapter 12, and that's a relatively short chapter… especially compared to chapter 11… cough cough

The good news? …I just saved a bunch of money by switching my car insurance to— gets slapped by Liz

Ahahahaha. I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I really don't have any good news… or at least none that would interest you guys…

Adieu


	11. Inhumanity,,, Almost

**Chapter Eleven: Inhumanity… Almost**

The strange fabric of Jason's gloves on Raven's unspoiled cheek made her wince, and slowly lift from her sleep. "What?" she mumbled, pushing away the interrupting hand.

"Hey," he said quietly from somewhere close—she hadn't opened her eyes yet.

"Hey yourself," she groaned, pulling the blankets up past her chin. "Now go away."

His laugh was ridiculing. "Funny. I figured you'd be a morning person. I was wrong, I take it?"

She opened one eye and then the other, squinting at him. Sunlight was filtering through the half-curtained window, warming her face, giving Jason's smile an impish glint.

"What do you want?" she finally said after he didn't leave. She sat up hesitantly.

"It's noon," he said, pointing to the clock. "Or it was five minutes ago, at least. I thought I would wake you up so we could get work done, like you said yesterday."

She glanced at the clock and then back to Jason. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" she snapped quietly, crossing her arms.

"You'll never be pleased, will you?" he chided pleasantly, laughing and stepping out into the hallway. "Since I'm so useless, I guess you should hurry about getting dressed. I'm leaving to go somewhere, but I'll be back in an hour."

"Where are you going?"

"If I wanted you to know that, I would've told you already." He winked and slipped out of the doorframe.

Raven sighed, collapsing back on her pillows. She felt slow, for some reason, as if she was trying to move through molasses. After another glance at the clock's blaring numbers, she forced herself to gather some clothes and cross the hallway to the bathroom.

The click of the door's lock unnerved her, for whatever reason. A shiver ran down her back as she undressed guardedly, the omnipresent feeling of being watched twisting her nerves until she stepped into the hot water. She stood still under the almost-scalding water until her muscles relaxed and she finally remembered to remove the bandage from her cheek. It stung, peeling the sticky edges from her tender skin, and even more when she skimmed her fingers over the cut below.

Raven decided against showering, instead filling the tub with frothy water. She sunk deep into it and exhaled loudly. _This… is nice._

She knew it was so wrong, being in the _real_ Red X's house, bathing in his bathroom. It didn't _feel_ wrong, though. Jason had a sort of calming effect on her, which made her annoyed with him anytime they were around each other. She didn't understand why or how she knew it, but Jason wasn't entirely human.

She shook her head, laughing under her breath as she stroked the bubbles with a forefinger. _That's idiotic_, she mused. _Of course he's human. Only a few creatures besides humans could be as blissfully uncontrolled as he is._

That thought made her smile and she dipped her head under the water. Her cheek stung—just enough to make her cringe and sit up, out of the water again, and check to see if it had started bleeding again.

"You're very late," the ethereal female voice whispered to Jason as he stood alone in the snowy graveyard.

"I couldn't help it," Jason smirked, crossing his arms impatiently.

"You can help it. Oh, yes. If you want any help with finding you little criminal buddy, you can help it."

"Raven was at my apartment. Asleep," he added swiftly, although he knew it was a bad excuse. "I couldn't leave her alone, especially since what happened last night."

"I never knew you had a heart," the voice laughed. The lightly falling snow around him suddenly swirled together, forming the solid form of a girl and then changing into actual flesh and blood. "You learn something new every day, I'd suppose."

Jason nodded, not moving closer to her. She had pale skin, almost white, with long, straight, golden hair and similar-colored eyes. "What did you call me for, anyway? You never _used_ to help me with anything."

"I know," she grinned, stepping closer to run two fingers down his cheek.

He winced unnoticeably at her cold touch. "So? What's up?"

"I can't just say hello?" she whined, wrapping her arms around his neck. She breathed on his neck. "You still smell good."

"You always say that," Jason rolled his eyes and dropped his arms to his sides. "But you're ignoring the question."

"You still could become one of us," she offered with a sigh.

"I though I already was."

"Not completely. Look at your skin, for example."

Jason laughed, pushing her away. "Listen, Charity, I have to go. Unless you're going to offer any help…"

She shoved him away, crossing her arms defiantly and spinning until her back was to him. "She's pretty."

Startled, he wondered, "Who is?"

"That girl. At the apartment."

After a minute, he laughed. "Raven? You're jealous of _Raven_?"

"If that is her name—then yes. Why are you with her? Why do you even allow her near you? When she finds out about you, she'll—"

"Shut up," Jason ordered, the corners of his mouth angled slightly down. "She won't. She doesn't need to."

"But if she does," Charity reminded smugly. "You won't be allowed—"

"I have to go." He turned from her. Walking up the path that lead out from the graveyard, he closed his eyes, knowing that she would follow.

"Jason," she said, instantly in front of him, her nose almost touching his. "You're running away. Again. Remember what happened the first time… You _can_ remember, can't you?"

"Of course," he sneered. "I remember it all too well, thank you very much." She seemed hurt, but he ignored it. "Like I said, I have to go."

"No, you don't!" she cried, disappearing back into the falling snow. "But you _like_ her, don't you?" He didn't answer. "Don't you? Jason? Jason, at least turn around and—"

He sent an icy look to where she had last stood before he kept walking.

Raven, her hair dripping wet, sat on the couch with Darby on her lap. She was staring up at the ceiling, her head tipped back, her mind trying not to linger too much on Jason, or where he was, or why he was taking so long.

"Are you squeaky clean yet?"

She straightened at the voice, and looked around to see where it came from. "What is it to you?" Her hand rose subconsciously to the band-aid on her cheek. When no one answered, her voice lowered. "Or is this just another dream?"

"No dream," he stated, stepping through the kitchen door. He had an apple in one hand and was combing through his russet hair with the other. "Although I'm sure I could make it one, if you'd like."

Raven narrowed her eyes. Pushing Darby off her lap, she stood, ready to fight. "I didn't say I _wanted_ it to be a dream."

"You're right… But why so tense?" He clasped his hands behind his back in an obvious unwillingness to begin combat.

"Did you expect me to be happy to see you?"

"Starfire was," he commented. His eyes lit up venomously. "Last night, I mean. She seemed to enjoy my visit."

"What did you do to her?" Raven yelled, forgetting herself and grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

"I didn't do anything to her."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" He seemed entertained. "You're very funny when you're flustered. Almost _adorable_."

Raven shoved him back, although she moved more than he did. "Nice to know," she spat contemptibly. "But let's get back on track—what did you do to Starfire?"

"You should call her," he replied. "She can answer for herself. I think she nearly trusts me." He let out a low laugh before dissolving in a brilliant flash.

"What do you mean, _trusts_ you?"

"Who are you talking to, Raven?" Jason asked just as he opened the door, locking it and then closing it again once he was inside.

"That disgusting teenager!" she growled, slumping down into the couch again.

"Who?" It took him a second. "Wait—he was here? _Again_?"

"Ye—"

"Did he hurt you? Touch you?" He was suddenly sitting beside her, silver eyes crinkled with worry as they scrutinized her face.

"No, but he said that Starfire…"

"He did something to Star?" His voice wasn't as strained, it seemed, but he wasn't completely relaxed.

"I couldn't tell. He said he didn't do anything, and that I should talk to her myself."

"You actually think he'd tell you the truth?"

"No, but… he didn't seem like he was lying. His eyes looked _truthful_." She stood, shifting her weight uneasily before going to the window.

"You can sense the truth in a person's eyes?" Jason asked, slowly appearing at her side.

"Sort of. Truth, lies, sarcasm—it's really the same, in a way. But I can also detect happiness, sadness, hate, love…"

"So you're a metal detector for feelings?" he laughed, turning his back to the window to put his elbows on the windowsill. "That's… inconvenient."

Raven flitted her glance to him. "Why?"

"No reason."

Lifting her head, she raised a brow. "Are you sure? You look like you're lying."

"So do you," he countered, running a hand through his hair, resting it on the side of his neck for a prolonged second before dropping it again. "I wonder why that is." He cleared his throat, directing the statement to her.

Raven gritted her teeth slightly. "That's because I was. You're impossible to read."

"What?"

He looked interested, so she rolled her eyes and explained. "I can't read your face. Either it's because you have too complex of emotions, or you don't have any at all… or I'm losing my touch."

"So…" He paused, looking hopeful. "You can't see what I'm thinking—or feeling, I guess. Or see my past? My future? Where I went, who I know, why I'm an idiot?"

Glaring at him, Raven answered, "You already know that, though, don't you?"

This caught him off guard. "Again, _what_?"

"You won't let me touch you because you _know_ that I could tap into your mind, don't you? That's why you always keep your distance."

He smiled. "I plead guilty!" And then his smile dropped. "If he was honest about not doing anything to Starfire, why do you look so unhappy?"

She bit her lip and didn't answer.

"He didn't do anything to _you_, right?" Jason held her chin with his gloved hand, turning her cut cheek to him gently. "Nothing like… that?"

"No," she answered, distant, not even bothering to pull away from him. "No. He didn't."

"Well, then let's get back to reason why you're unhappy."

"He said…" Her eyes finally focused on Jason. She looked startled and jerked to her feet, stepping back.

Jason watched her curiously, wondering why her face had suddenly flushed. "He said _what_?" he prodded.

"Oh—he said that Starfire had _enjoyed_ his visit, and… trusted him." She looked down at the floor at nothing in particular. "Do you really think she could _trust_ him?"

"You said you could detect sarcasm, too, didn't you?"

"Yes, but he wasn't _using_ sarcasm."

Jason fell silent for a minute, thinking. "Call her," he suggested. "Isn't that what he told you to do? To talk to her?"

Raven looked uncomfortable. "I can't."

"Why?"

"Because dropped my communicator in the water this morning. The water didn't do anything, but the soap…"

"And you don't know her communicator's number? Or the Tower's number?"

She glared at him. "If I call the Tower, I'll be reined back into it. I'd much rather be outside actually _doing_ something."

Jason smiled and cocked his head to one side. "With me?"

No intelligible words came out when she opened her mouth to retort sarcastically. "I…" There was a pause, and then she shook her head roughly, saying, "Fine. With you. But mostly just to be doing something."

"I'm sure," he grinned, starting towards the kitchen. "Have you eaten?"  
"Yes. You've been out a while… _wherever_ you went."

"Good." He ignored her comment. "Now go dry your hair. We're going out."

"Out _where_?"

"Does it matter?"

She pursed her lips, debating. Finally, she sighed and went back to her room, throwing on jeans and a dark sweater before meeting Jason back near the couch. "Aren't you ready?" she asked, pulling on her shoes, studying him as he read a newspaper casually.

"Yeah. But your hair is still wet."

She groaned. "It's _fine_! It's nearly dry—"

"You'll get a cold." He stared at her, and she stared back icily.

"No, I won't."

"I'll push you in the water, and _then_ you'll get a cold."

Raven froze jerkily. "Water? Where _are_ we _going_?"

"You win," he laughed, setting the paper aside and dragging her out the door. "You can keep your wet hair."

"Jason—" she tried to protest.

Within a few minutes, they were out on the street, walking farther apart than necessary. Raven had given up trying to struggle against his iron grip and was now intrigued by the direction they were heading. Snow lightly fell around them, soft flurries that Beast Boy would've tried to catch on his tongue.

She laughed at the thought, and Jason looked inquiringly at her. "You remember the consequence of smiling, don't you?" She didn't have time to answer before he yanked her closer and spun her around as if the sidewalk was a ballroom and the silence was instead music to the rhythm of a waltz. "You're beautiful, as usual, Miss Raven," he whispered. His voice was low and seemed changed—she had to look up at him to make sure _he_ was the one speaking.

"Let go," she snapped, struggling.

"I won't." He looked into her eyes and let his breath touch her face. "Unless, of course…"

"No 'unless,' Jason! Put me _down_!"

His lips were half an inch away from hers when he answered, speaking into her mouth. "Give me three reasons why I should."

A menacing chill swept up her spine at those words. Her muscles stiffened, her breath caught in her throat, and she knew her expression showed fear from Jason's reaction.

"Raven?" he asked sharply and held her a foot away from himself. "What's wrong? I'm sorry—did I go too—"

"I'm fine," she murmured darkly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then what's up?"

_A vision?_ she wondered, startled by the familiarity of the feeling. She hadn't had visions for a long while—she assumed the ability had faded—but there was no doubt that the future was pulling at her, prodding her to figure something out. But no images came, even though she knew they would, given time.

"It's nothing yet." She avoided it, not wanting to bother Jason with anything else. "Just a stupid feeling."

"I'm beginning to think that any 'feeling' of yours isn't _stupid_." Jason took her hand and continued walking. "And you said 'yet.' Does it mean that it'll be an issue later?"

"I think so, but there's no point in dwelling on it now."  
He raised his eyebrows, questioning.

"I couldn't see anything. It was a… a _vision_, of sorts, but nothing appeared in my mind, so—" Her eyes caught on their hands, his gloved fingers intertwined in hers. She yanked away involuntarily, holding her hand close, wondering how she failed to notice that they holding hands.

She laughed at the idiocy. _Holding hands?_ It reminded her of a cheesy chic-flick sort of movie—the kind that Starfire always wanted to watch.

"You're smiling again," Jason said, light reprimand in his tone.

"You're being stupid again."

"Good comeback," he smirked. "Soon you'll be snapping out the 'Yer momma' jokes."

They continued walking in silence, only breaking it when Jason hailed a cab and pushed Raven into the back seat. "West sixty-ninth and first," he directed naturally.

"First?" she asked once the cab was in motion. "Isn't that far?"

"Not _that_ far," he laughed.

"Isn't it near the beach?" She stopped, agape. "You're going to push me into the water? It's November! It'll be freezing!"

"I was kidding!"

Raven sighed, crossing her arms and turning to look out the window. The city was flashing by—it seemed picturesque around the falling snow, and the people seemed happy as they walked down the sidewalks. It made her wonder if there was any crime here—besides any of Jason's antics.

She looked over her shoulder at him. He only seemed to commit crimes in Jump City. Any crime, even small or far away, would reach the Titans, and yet there was almost no mention of him in the crime records.

"What're you looking at?" Jason asked, interrupting her thoughts. "My extremely buff, disgustingly muscled—"

"No!" she laughed, annoyed.

"Well, you _were_ looking at me."  
She opened her mouth, but then closed it again and looked out the window. "I was just thinking."

"About my extremely buff, disgustingly—"

"_No!_"


	12. Tell Me Why

**Chapter Twelve: Tell Me Why**

"Princess, wake up," a quiet voice gently said into Starfire's ear. "It's time for you to greet the day."

After a moment, Starfire sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to her chest. "You!" she breathed. The past night flowed back into her memory—the fear, the disgust… the _wanting_, the _needing_, and the terror of him never returning.

"Yes, it's me," the brunette teen said, his voice silky smooth. "You look upset. What's wrong?"

'_What's wrong?'_

Starfire tried not to answer, but she couldn't seem to hold back her words. "Everything is wrong!"

'_Did he hurt you?'_

He appeared to be puzzled, so she went on. "You do not seem cruel; Robin does. I am feeling the 'miserable' and I do not understand why I am able to be in your presence without fearing you, as I properly should!"

"You don't have to be afraid of me," he whispered, hurt softening his expression.

'_I'm not going to hurt you.'_

"Please," she moaned, dropping her head into her hands. "Oh, X'hal… I would be most gratified if you would now depart from our Tower." She looked up when she felt his arms encircle her, holding her against him. Her head dipped onto his chest and she inhaled deeply. "You smell of the earthly spice named cinnamon."

"Oh? Don't you like it?"

"No… It is wonderful…" She bit her tongue and pushed away, still in the confines of his arms, but far enough to look him meekly in the eye. "You must leave!"

"You've already said that," he reminded her.

"I realize this," she stated carefully. "And you should heed my words—I wish you gone!"

"Starfire, tell me _why_ first!"

She stared at him for a moment before hot tears spilled from her eyes. Irrationality swept through her. "I do not know," she whimpered in frustration. "When you are gone, I am in utter perplexity, but when you are present…" A sob wracked her body. "I do not know what to feel!"

"I'll leave," he said, and began to release her. She clung to him in an almost unintentional reaction, making him furrow his brow. "Starfire, I can't leave with you holding onto me."

"You cannot leave!"

"But you just said—"

"I do not comprehend what I am feeling, and I fear that Robin will not be eager to speak to me! _Please_, stay!"

He held her closer in an attempt to stop her from shaking. "Calm down," he ordered, tone soothing. "Star, I promise I won't leave you until you tell me to. Just _calm down_, alright?"

She nodded and purposely slowed her breathing. "Your name," she murmured softly after a few minutes. "I do not know your name."

"Well," he said, nearly formally. "I'm Gabriel."

"Gabriel," she tried. "On my planet, it was reported that that name was for a sacred being on Earth. Are you—?"

"Of course I'm not a 'sacred being,' Starfire. My mother just named me that. I guess Earth isn't like—"

"Hey, Star, it's past noon! Are you awake yet? Robin's hyperventilating in his room for some reason. Do you know why?"

She looked up at Gabriel, who nodded and stepped just inside the bathroom.

"Yes, Beast Boy?" she asked, wiping her cheeks just as the door slid open. "What is it you wish?"

"Do you know why Robin had gone mad…? You do, don't you? That why you're crying?"

She shook her head quickly. "I am not crying because of Robin, although I _do_ know why he is in his room."

"Did you two have a fight?" Beast Boy asked straightforwardly.

Starfire looked away for a moment before nodding _yes_.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks… Come out if you need anything." He trudged off a few feet, and once her door had closed, Starfire could hear him bounding down the hallway, no doubt to get back to a video game.

"He's a little obnoxious," Gabriel noted, stepping closer again.

Starfire twisted around to face him and then blushed, realizing that she probably looked terrible—red eyes, loose pajama pants, a huge t-shirt, and hair that was most likely mussed. Not even bothering to consider why she _cared_ what he thought, she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm and smoothed her hair with the other. "I apologize," she whispered, flushing crimson when he smiled at her.

"No—you look fine. You'll look fine in _any_ situation. Even if you're covered in mud, you'll still be cute." He took her hand and kissed the back of it, looking into her eyes for permission. "Plus, you smell good, too—like strawberries." He kissed her wrist now, lingering for a second before pulling her closer and kissing her cheek gently. "Do you feel better now?"

"I still am confused," she said, shaking her head again.

"You should talk to Raven," Gabriel advised. He let her go, and stepped back a few feet. "I'll be here again as soon as you need me, but I'll leave you alone for now." His form shimmered into nothingness, the usually bright light dulled.

"Good bye," she nodded. And then it hit her again—the torn feelings of hatred and… affection. She shivered as she reached or her communicator. "Raven?" she asked into it. Only static responded. "Raven, I wish to speak with you…" After another minute, she clicked it shut and tossed it onto her bed, mildly annoyed. "Perhaps you should answer instead of ignoring the calls you receive…"

"Starfire?"

She stiffened and looked up at Gabriel, who had materialized again a few feet away. "Yes?"

He came closer, reaching to cup her chin in his hand. "I really _am_ sorry, alright?"

She nodded. She felt calm again… peaceful. "I realize this."

"Good." He leaned forward, lightly brushing his lips with hers and then ebbing back into the light, as usual.

Starfire stood still for a prolonged second, stunned, not yet able to have a handle on what was happening. She sat on her bed in a daze and laid back. _I don't understand!_ she thought for what seemed like the millionth time in the past few hours.

Closing her eyes, she willed herself into a restful sleep.

Unbeknownst to her, no one can escape Gabriel—even in dreams.


	13. Recall

This is (so far) my favorite chapter… it was fun to write…

**Chapter Thirteen: Recall**

Raven sighed and crossed her arms. "I hope you know that you're an idiot. That's just stupidity."

Jason turned to face her, spreading his arms and grinning. "I know!"

"Really. You can die from that."

"No, I can't!"

She laughed in sarcasm as he fell backwards again, landing with a splash into the choppy waves of the bay, twenty feet from where she was standing at the water's edge. "Get back here, Jason!"

"Why?" he whined. "We _already_ discussed all possibilities of escape from the Tower! Now let me have my fun!" He sat up, flipping his wet hair back and shaking the sleeve of his black hoodie as if to dry it.

"Going swimming in temperatures below zero is your idea of fun?"

"Yeah! I mean, doesn't _everyone_ do it?"

"You're crazy," she muttered.

"Technically," Jason explained, "the water is warmer than the air, since it takes longer to change temperatures. The water seems _warm_."

Raven crouched and dipped her hand in the water, surprised that it really _was_ warmer—if only by a little. "You proved your point," she called, standing again. "Now let's go!"

Jason smiled brightly and began racing towards the beach. "You asked for it!" he called, fighting the waves to get to her.

"You're sopping wet!" she yelled, backing up. "Don't you _dare_!"

He pretended to fall in slow motion when he was halfway back to get even more drenched. He hopped to his feet again within ten seconds and resumed going towards her.

"Jason, slow _down_! You're going to run into—"

"You?" he panted, grabbing her and spinning around, completely off balance. "I know!"

"You're wet!" she growled, but she couldn't help smiling.

"Always stating the obvious, Rae-Rae!" He fell into the snow-painted sand, landing over Raven. Instantly, he rolled a foot away from her, propping himself up on his elbows. His breath was ragged between his gasping laughter.

"Now _I'm_ wet," she complained, still smiling. "Are you _entirely_ insane?"

"Maybe," he struggled to say.

Raven looked at him for a moment longer, only to burst out laughing.

"What?" he huffed, startled by her sudden explosion.

"You look ridiculous!" She shook with hilarity, still looking at him sprawled out on the sand, sweatshirt dripping wet and clinging to his frame, his jeans already covered with tiny tan specks. "Absolutely ridiculous!"

Jason, finally catching his breath, dropped back into the sand. "So do you! Your hair is all messed up, and now you're wet—"

"Whose fault do you think _that_ is?"

"Certainly not mine!"

"Oh, really?" Her smile subsided into an almost-stern glare.

"Yes, _really_. Now you look like a pouting nine-year-old… But how many times have you smiled today?"

She groaned and clambered to her feet. "Not _that_ again!"

"Beautiful Raven," he sang, following suit.

"I'll touch you if you don't—"

"Oh, yes, my sweet! _Touch me!_" Jason reached out a hand to her and grinned like a lovesick fool.

"You have a bad way of misinterpreting—"

"I know that you _want_ to have my baby, Rae-Rae, but I just—"

"Will you shut up already?"

"Maybe you should shut my mouth with—"

Raven spun on him, gritting her teeth. "Jason!"

"Oh, yes! Say my name _again_!"

"Jas—"

"Say it!" He was stepping closer now, very nearly skipping to her in the process.

"I'm not kidding, Jason." She reached out a hand, but pulled it back when he continued closer.

"See?" he grinned. "You won't do anything!"

"Last warning."

"I don't believe you."

Raven quirked a brow and shot forward, skimming the tips of her fingers over his cheek. It took a minute, but images snapped into her mind, so strong that they replaced her senses.

She was standing—or, rather, _sitting_—in the middle of an open room with pillars lining it instead of walls. The landscape outside was dark but green, and the inside was white marble, candles flickering, throwing shadows on the delicately carved walls. A voice was speaking in a tongue she didn't understand, although she could tell it was a question of some sort.

Her surroundings switched—the voice changed, but another continued—and her focus turned to a girl with pale skin and golden hair falling past her waist, who seemed to be speaking to her. "I _told_ you," she said, in a tongue that wasn't English, but still seemed familiar. "You _can't_ help them." She seemed almost doll-like as she crossed her arms and tilted her head in obvious pity.

And then it changed again, leaving her staring at a dark-haired boy. He, in turn, was staring down at the woman who had been in the portrait on the apartment's wall. _Jason's mother?_ Raven guessed, stepping closer to see why neither of them were moving.

The woman, staring mindlessly at the ceiling, was lying fully clothed in a bathtub of red water. There was no doubt in Raven's mind on what tinted it when she saw the cuts across the woman's submerged neck.

"Mommy?" the boy asked her quietly, and then spun to face Raven. "Help!" he choked out meekly, his silver eyes staring right through Raven as if she wasn't there—because she wasn't. "Please! Someone! My mommy—!"

_He's Jason_, she realized, suddenly nauseous. Her eyes moved to the woman in the bathtub; _He said his mother committed suicide, but this…_

Something jerked Raven backwards. She landed on the cold sand of the beach, back in reality. With a gasp, she flicked her gaze to Jason.

He was absolutely still for a few lengthened seconds, looking about to hit her, when he stumbled a few feet backwards. "What did you see?" he hissed, his eyes menacing slits, though they flickered with worry and fear. "Why did you _do_ that?" he yelled. Catching his balance, he rooted himself to the spot and towered over her. "Are you _insane_?"

Raven reached out a hand. "Jason, I didn't—"

He smacked it away so hard that she felt her wrist crack. "Don't touch me!" he shouted, and then abruptly vanished.

"What?" Raven wondered. She looked around, wide-eyed, to find nothing but empty stretches of beach. "Where…?" Something hot trailed down her cheek and made her jump. She wiped it away, shocked to realize that it was a tear.

"Where did you go?" she asked, and shakily rose to her feet, tripping over her sand-covered jeans. "Jason, come _on_. This isn't _funny_." She couldn't imagine where he went, or how he had disappeared from sight. He hadn't moved at all—he was just there one moment and gone the next.

Her hand throbbed from where he had hit her. The wind bit at her wet skin as she inspected her fingers closer, making sure that there was no serious damage before walking back up to street level. _Would he be at his apartment? Or would he be… elsewhere?_ She almost laughed at her stupidity. _Why would he let me_ inside _his apartment if he_ was _there?_

She found herself getting into the back of a cab and then getting out again all too soon. The driver asked her if she was all right as she paid him and weakly staggered onto the sidewalk. She was almost too busy hoping that Jason wasn't so mad as to leave her alone far away from any familiar area even to answer with an inaudible, 'Yeah."

Up the elevator and towards the room—luckily, she had glanced the door number earlier—and then stood there, tentative to knock.

"You're a fool, Raven," a low voice murmured from inside the apartment before she knocked, let alone touched the door. It swung open, and she didn't have a chance to see the person before a precisely-aimed backhand to her right temple knocked her unconscious.


	14. If Not For Ignorance

**Chapter Fourteen: If Not For Ignorance**

Jason was still shaking when he stormed into the white-marble hallway and up to Charity, who was sitting sideways on a carved marble throne, playing with a white bird. She looked perfectly smug when she smiled up at him, the cockatiel sitting on her finger flying away at the sudden movement.

"Let me guess," she began, but the look in his eyes stopped her short.

"Go away." He didn't bother to move his mouth more than necessary.

"I've been wondering when you'd show up," she replied, still grinning. "After all, I figured you'd be more worried about what would happen if you left her alone.

Jason jerked his eyes to meet hers, though unwillingly. "What do you mean?"

"Apparently, you didn't know, but… Michael went to go visit your apartment this afternoon. You weren't there, of course." She took a slow breath and straightened slightly in the regal chair, her legs still thrown over one armrest. "And, being Michael, he felt the need to contact you. I don't know why or how he had planned to…"

"Faster," Jason ordered, almost a growl. "Speak _faster_."

"Fine," Charity laughed, tossing her hair behind one shoulder and raising a brow. "Michael then showed up _here_"—Jason stiffened—"and ended up telling a _fascinating_ story about some files stored on your computer about a certain girl, who just _happened_ to show up at the door _right then_!"

Jason managed to keep a neutral expression. "And?"

"And he said how strange it was for _you_ to keep someone as a pet—"

"She's not my—"

"_And_ he said that he felt her _had_ to do something, so, under the direction of Gabriel and the strange little voice in the back of his own head, Michael knocked her out flat."

He had the extreme urge to hit something. Some_one_, even. Like Michael. "Where is she _now_?"

Charity pursed her lips. "Damn. I figured you'd react much more violently. I mean, Michael never does _any_thing like that. Aren't you surprised?"

"Michael? Yes. But 'under the direction of Gabriel,' he'd do anything. Charity, _where is she_?"

Rolling her eyes and turning away from him, she waved her hand vaguely. "Oh, you know. Around here somewhere."

"Charity!"

"Raphael!" a voice called from the curtained archway to the left of the throne. "Why are you here?"

Jason raised his cold glare to the pale girl who had just walked into the room, clothed in entirely pink and black cow print. Her hand rose to her mouth in objectionable shock, her silver bracelets and purple nail polish glinting obnoxiously in the light of the torches lining the walls. Besides the numerous piercings on each ear and the mace hanging on a rusty chain around her waist, she looked relatively normal.

"Elizabetha," Jason addressed her, dipping his head while smirking in a mockery of respect. "A pleasure."

"Of course." Her otherwise melodious voice was tainted with spite as she tucked a piece of her short, dark blue hair behind her ear. "It's _always_ a _joy_ to see you again, Raphael."

"Jason," he corrected moodily, about to turn his attention back to Charity when he noticed something in her hand. Half of its wrapper was peeled back and a bite mark made it clear that Elizabetha had been eating it. "Is that...?"

"It's butter," she nodded, suddenly amiable as she licked the end of it. "You never told me earthly food was this good!"

"It's… butter…" Jason felt sick from just watching her eat it. "That's so—" He shook his head. "Nevermind that. Charity, where's Raven? I _need_ to get to her before she—"

"She's in your quarters," Elizabetha laughed, crossing in front of the throne to exit through the opposite archway after taking another bite. "That weird girl? Yeah… and she'll be waking soon, I wager. I have to go see Gabriel, so I'll talk to you later, Charity. 'Kay?"

"Fine," Charity answered, resigned.

"She's in _my_ room?" Jason stormed closer. "You put her in _my—_"

"Gabriel did," she answered quickly. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes. "And I'm sure she won't see anything if you get there fast enough."

He didn't move for a moment, debating if he should reply, or thank her, or merely remark with some witty banter. "See you," he said at last, limply raising a hand, hastening to go through the door to the left of Charity.

Jason had never before traveled to his room as fast as he did then, but the minutes that passed were still drawn out and never-ending. When he finally got into the chilly, stonewalled bedroom, he sighed in relief.

Raven was lying on her side, tangled in the black sheets. "Jason?" she asked, and he froze.

_She can't be awake!_ he thought, teeth gritted. When she didn't turn to look at him but instead mumbled something imperceptible, he relaxed. _Sleep-talking_, he grinned, cautiously coming closer until he was leaning over the edge of the bed. His fist instinctively clenched when he noticed the slightly darkened spot on her right temple. "Michael," he groaned, but then slapped a hand across his mouth. _Shhhh!_ he warned himself.

Jason didn't move for a few minutes. Something about watching her sleep made him calmer. The steadiness of her breathing, of her chest rising and falling at perfectly timed intervals… He yawned, and laughed softly until something made his stomach tighten. The cut on her cheek had bled slightly in his absence, and a wet drop of crimson glittered at the end of the tiny trail it had forged.

He leaned over her face impulsively, watching the torchlight flicker in the drop. It wasn't until Raven's head jerked subconsciously that he realized his face was at the base of her neck, his lips hovering less than an inch from the side of her throat. His whole form stiffened.

"Stop it," Raven murmured. She was still asleep, but Jason pretended she wasn't.

He ripped himself away, falling backwards onto the stone tiles in a daze. _Not again_. A tremor ran through him just as someone knocked lightly on his door.

"Father," a sardonically sharp voice said. "I don't believe I told you to retrieve the girl until I was _done_ with her." A pause, and then, "Open the door, _Father_."

Jason scrambled to his feet, taking long, unneeded breaths to ease his nerves. "Yes?" he asked automatically, swiftly pulling the door open. As he had predicted, hazel eyes clouded by strands of brown hair met his own. "Gabriel," he nodded.

"Don't pretend you didn't _know_ it was _me_, _Father_," he smirked, pushing Jason aside and almost dancing the Raven's side. "Such a pretty creature," he purred. Looking up at Jason, he raised a brow. "What's wrong? You look exceedingly flushed."

"Nothing's wrong. Are you done?"

Gabriel smiled—Jason felt as if he was missing something, as if some inside joke had been mentioned past his line of knowledge. "Yes," he said smoothly, running a finger down her neck. "Would you mind if I put something on her?"

"What?"

Gabriel extracted something from his pocket, holding it out for Jason to see. "A… necklace, of sorts. If you don't mind."

"What does it do?" he asked skeptically.

"Nothing to hurt her," Gabriel chuckled darkly. "It'll keep her safe." Without consulting Jason again, he looped the thin silver band around her neck, clicking the fastening shut. "Yes, now I'm done." Jason winced away as Gabriel cupped his chin in his icy hand, running the nail of his thumb down his cheek and smiling slyly. "Be careful when you leave with her, and tell her to clean up her wounds. I wouldn't want anything _bad_ happening to her, now would I?"

Jason groaned as soon as he was alone in the room. It annoyed him, not knowing what the sleek smile on Gabriel's face was for. What had he meant, _'I wouldn't want anything bad happening to her'_? And _'such a pretty creature'_?

_I'm_ definitely _missing something_.

Jason shivered and turned his mind to Raven, who was still sleeping in complete bliss a few feet away. Resurfaced hatred ran through him for a minute second, and then he closed his eyes to deter his mind from the speck of blood. _Damn._ He raked his fingers through his hair in annoyance. _Damn! I don't—_

His eyes shot open again as Raven said something else that was not quite discernible. Hesitating first, he bent down to pick her up, one arm around her back and other beneath her knees. He flinched and almost dropped her when her head slumped onto his chest. Her breath was startlingly warm.

_This… is going to be difficult_, he concluded, and then slowly moved toward the window.

---------------------

shuffles feet If anyone feels like joining a Titans Shrine-in-the-making (it's not mine, but I'm a mod…), there's one at http/s11. ;;

I'm being stupid… laughs


	15. Do You Have Any Tape?

Let me just say that this story will, in general, confuse you. It confuses my friends, who ask me a lot of questions about it… and still have no idea what's going on.

That being said, just sit back, relax, and enjoy…

**Chapter Fifteen: Do You Have Any Tape?**

As Raven resurfaced from her dream, she felt something cool on her forehead, mainly focused on her right temple. Not unpleasantly cold, like ice, but just cool enough to dim the headache that came in sporadic throbs. It took her a moment to control her thoughts, and another minute to open her eyes.

She was surprised how dimly lit the room was. Her eyes moved up to the person sitting next to her, and realized that it was his hand on her forehead. "Jason?" she asked. She began to prop herself up on her elbows, but the room spun and she fell back limply.

His hand had flitted from her head as soon as she had spoken. "Hey," he muttered. "Sorry about…" He waved his hand vaguely.

"Put your hand back," she groaned, closing her eyes again and seeing spots. "My head hurts."

"But—"

"Nevermind," she snapped quickly, sitting upright.

"No, you don't." Jason pressed her back down. Her attempt to struggle was to no avail. "It's my fault if you get sick… _again_. Now, I'll go get something cold to put on your head. Idiot Michael," he mumbled as he moved away.

"Wait—what happened?" She tried to think back to the beach. "You got mad, and you disappeared, and I came back here, and then…" She stopped, and then sat up again, nearly shouting. "You hit me!"

"No, I didn't."

"Who did, then?" Her head was pounding again. It occurred to her that he wasn't looking at her when she spoke, and that the feel of the blankets was more noticeable that it had been before. _Why…?_ She looked down and nearly screamed again. "Jason!"

"You finally noticed?" he sighed, rolling his eyes while still averting them.

"Yes, I noticed!" she argued, clutching the sheets in front of her chest, which was only covered by a scant black bra.

"Look, I didn't want you to get a cold, or a fever, or pneumonia. It's not my fault that you got all wet!" He caught himself, and laughed. "Well, maybe it is… but you were shivering, and I figured…" He frowned and reached for the doorknob. "Forget it. Just get dressed then, and leave."

"Leave?" The hammering pain in her head didn't help her think. "You want me to leave?"

"No. And I don't expect you to leave… but I need you to." His hand dropped to his side. "You're in more danger here than you will be anywhere else. Maybe not now, but…"

"Why are you so vague?" Her voice was becoming shrill. "You never tell me where you go, or why I can't touch you, or… You know what? I _will_ leave." She clambered out of the bed, reaching for a black bathrobe a foot away. When it was tied around her well enough, she started toward her bag of clothes, stumbling over the corner of the bed.

"Raven," Jason barked catching her around the waist before she could fall. His hand was on her forehead before she could protest. "You're too warm."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you ar—ow!" He ignored her struggling, forcing her back on the bed. "Stop it! You're sick. Get into…" His voice faded away when he met her gaze and realized he had her pinned down, his hands holding back her arms, his knees on either side of her waist. He flickered his stare to her eyes, which were widened in a mix of surprise and panic. "Sorry!" he breathed, pushing himself backwards, sidling to the wall, hands raised. "I didn't mean…"

She sat up slowly and couldn't find it in her to meet his gaze. Just that instant, that moment—the thought of him hovering over her, holding her down—

"I'll go away…" Jason's slow, careful tone broke her thoughts. He slid to the door, opening it and beginning to step into the hallway when she shook her head with a sigh.

"I'm fine. You just… surprised me."

"Yeah, sure."

Raven looked up at him, distracted from her attempts to straighten the pillows now behind her. "You don't think you surprised me?" She toyed with the neckline of the robe, pulling it tighter across her chest jerkily. "Jason?"

He removed his foot from between the door and the wall, closed the door, and moved in front of the mirrored vanity smoothly. Leaning back on it, he stared at her, searching her face.

"What?" she asked impatiently, dropping her hand from the robe.

"Do I scare you?"

She blinked, mystified. "It depends what you mean by _scare_."

"Frighten, alarm, upset, terrify, horrify… _scare_." His tone was level, his gaze unyielding.

"I…" She thought a moment. "Like at the beach, when you got mad and disappeared? Yes, I suppose that sort of—"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what _did_ you mean?"

He raised a brow, the edge of his lips curving up in a devious grin. "Do you think you're in danger when you're with me?"

Narrowing her eyes, she answered, "No."

He laughed quietly, a foreboding guffaw, and then locked eyes with her again. "Do you think you're in danger right now?" He took a step closer, leaning slightly over the bed, still a few feet away.

"Should I?" Raven pulled her knees to her chest, again pulling her robe closer. "Jason?"

He continued to look intently at her without speaking.

"Jason?" She leaned subconsciously away as he circled the edge of the bed, moving gracefully closer until he was towering over her. "Jason."

After a few seconds, his expression broke and he pushed away from the bed, doubling over with laughter. "You _are_ jumpy," he taunted good-heartedly. Making his voice falsetto, he waved his hands. "Jason? Jason? Jas-onnn?"

"You are a complete and total…" She pressed her lips together, crossing her arms. "I hate you."

"Yes, yes, I know…"

"I'm not kidding—you're evil."

"Oh, come on—it _was_ funny!" He knelt down, his elbows resting on the edge of the bed. "You have to admit it…"

She rolled her eyes, lying back, covering her head with the blankets. "Leave me alone."

"No chance!" He prodded her side, making her jerk away and sit up.

"Jason," she growled.

"Hey!" he said so loudly, she jumped. "Do you want to hear some of the worst pick-up lines _ever_?"

"Not especially. _Don't_ poke me."

"Do you have any tape?" he wondered, batting his eyelashes.

"No. Dare I ask why you need it?"

He raised an arm, flexed it, and snickered, "Because I'm _ripped_."

She groaned, and attempted to hide under her sheets again. "That was _lame_."

"Raven—do you work for the UPS?"

"No."

When he didn't answer, Raven peeled the blanket back to check if he was still there.

He was. "You have to ask why!" he directed.

"Jason…"

"This'll be the last one, I promise!"

"It's only the second one!" She glared at him a moment, then collapsed back. "Why do you think I work for the UPS, Jason?"

"Because I'm sure I just saw you checkin' out my package!"

It took a moment, but Raven started laughing, shaking her head as she did. "You're right. That was very possible the worst pick-up line I've heard."

"Oh—there's worse. Like, 'if I flip a coin, what are my choices of getting head?'"

She propped herself up on her elbows. "Now, that's just _wrong_."

"So?" He smiled, poking her again. "You need some sleep."

"Yeah—and if it weren't for _somebody_, I'd already _be_ asleep."

Jason frowned, and disappeared as he leaned over, behind the edge of the bed. A second later, he put Darby on the bed, glaring at the meowing kitten angrily. "You're right. Poor little Darby… she shouldn't have bothered you."

"Poor little Darby," Raven agreed. "She has to live with _you_."

"Hey, I take good care of her! Don't I, you little terror?" He scratched Darby between her ears, letting his voice trail off into a comfortable silence.

"Anyway," Raven said at last. Jason's eyebrows rose, looking at her. "I think I'll go to sleep now…"

"Good idea," he agreed, picking up the kitten and opening the door. Just as he was closing it again, he froze. "Oh… and Raven?"

"Yes?"

"I… wasn't kidding about the danger thing, or about needing you to leave. You really _aren't_ safe here."

She met his silver gaze again, wondering why he looked sad as he said it. "Don't worry," she said, falling backwards into the pillows. "I'll take my chances."

A grin spread unwillingly across Jason's face. He shook his head, turned off the lamp casting a soft light on the room, and closed the door.

"Good night."


	16. Brotherly Love

Ah… Cameron, Cameron, Cameron. The sweet little boy who finally shows up in chapter sixteen… ahahahaha! Or not so sweet… he has a temper… and you have no idea what I'm babbling about, so I'll just let you read it…

And so begins the train of more confusion, destination: headache…

**Chapter Sixteen: Brotherly Love**

"Hey, Raphael," Charity called, racing down the hallway after Jason. "Pretty boy!"

He turned, his arms crossed. "What do you want?"

She was shaking, which was abnormal, even for her. "Cameron," she hissed.

"Cameron?" He jerked his head up. "Where the hell is he?"

"He's not here. He's…" She paused, wincing. "He's at your apartment."

"What? Nevermind—but what is _he_ doing—"

Before Charity could speak, Jason disappeared.

"Cameron!" Jason yelled, storming into Raven's bedroom. He growled as soon as he saw the silver eyed, black haired boy looking out the window, only feet away from Raven, who was still asleep.

"You're too loud, Jason," the boy commented icily, not turning to face him. He was two years younger than Jason, but his voice and appearance didn't show it. "You'll wake her… Too late."

Jason looked down at Raven, who had just wearily opened her eyes. She groaned, sitting up, looking at him. "Jason?" she asked, covering her chest with the blankets. "What're you…"

"Cameron," Jason said quietly, ignoring her. "Get out of here."

"Why? Can't I visit relatives for old time's sake?"

Raven's head spun as she turned herself to look at the boy next to the window. He was almost identical to Jason. They stood like mirror images on either side of the bed. "Who—"

"What were you going to do?" Jason said, his voice growing to nearly a yell. "Cameron, _why did you come_?"

"Only to visit," he answered, sitting on the bed next to Raven. He held her chin roughly in one hand, inspecting her. "And _you_, my darling, are the one who Jason trusts enough for him to share his secrets with?" Raven jerked back, struggling against his grip. "Well, honey, you should probably sleep with more clothes on than just your underwear."

"Get off her!" Jason shouted, pushing himself across the bed to yank Cameron away. "Answer me! Why—"

"I wanted to prove my worth, dear Jason! If you were so keen on giving me my gifts," he whispered harshly, leaning forward into Jason's bewildered face, "perhaps you should've known that I would want to test them—use them."

"Get away from me. Don't touch me!" Jason squirmed again Cameron, who had turned the tables and grabbed his wrists. "Let me _go_!"

"Is it torture?" Cameron wondered, stepping closer. "Does it drive you crazy, being so near to me? After all, I can't imagine you'd forget what you did to me." The corner of his mouth turned up into a disgusted smirk. "Does it? Or are you already too crazy—"

"I already apologized," Jason said hoarsely. "It wasn't my fault."

"Of course it was, _dear brother_. And your guilty eyes are glazed over in _lies_!"

"Stop it!" Raven interrupted, rising from the bed and grabbing Jason. "Both of you—stop it!"

"Don't tell me what to do, bitch!"

"Cameron!" Jason warned, shoving Raven away to fling a punch at the boy. She fell hard, slamming backwards into the nightstand.

"What did you _do_?" Cameron asked, slipping under Jason's arm. To Raven's surprise, he lifted her to her feet, putting a hand on the back of her head. "Are you—"

"Let her go!"

"Why? You're the one who hurt her! You're the one who _always_ hurts people! You always blame _me_, Jason, but it's _you_! Who do you think got mom and dad killed? Who do you think tried to protect them?" Cameron's bright, metallic eyes were glistening. "The people who you're close to—they end up getting hurt! Why do you blame it on _me_? Soon enough, _she_ will be _dead_ because you _can't_ protect her!"

"And _you_ can? She doesn't _know_ you!"

"Well, that's better than knowing you—Raphael, the stealing angel—and getting killed because of it! You _know_ Gabriel will just order her dead! And just like before—all the times before—you won't do _anything_ about it!" Cameron looked down at Raven, who was looking between the two, incredibly lost. "Come with me," he ordered, dragging her past Jason, who stared after them in complete silence.

Raven was in an elevator before she realized it, shivering and toying with the lapels of the robe.

"Here," the boy said. In the bright elevator light, she realized he could very well be older than her. She watched him shrug off his black jacket and drape it around her. She stood, staring at him, unsure if he was a friend or foe. "It won't bite you," he said, pulling a sleeve out her for to slip her arm into. "C'mon—I'm trying to help you. I'll explain later, I promise, but for right now, just trust me."

"But…"

"What's your name?" he asked, dropping the sleeve.

"Raven."

"I'm Cameron. I'm Jason's brother, but—"

"I thought…" She stopped, trying to find a polite way to say it. "I thought you were…"

"Dead? Yeah, well, Jason usually makes people think that, stupid bastard." He rolled his eyes, resuming his hold on the sleeve. "Now, you're coming with me for a bit. Just put the coat on so you don't look like you're some sort of prostitute, and follow me."

The elevator stopped just as she was zipping up the jacket, still confused. He took her hand and led her out of the building. A limo was waiting for him, apparently, as he prodded her into one and then sat down himself. Closing the door, he nodded to the driver. "Let's go."

"Where're we going, exactly?" Raven was just beginning to wake up enough to think clearly. She shook her head, running a hand over the back of her head. "Ow…"

"I'm sorry," he said, pushing her head slightly forward to look at it. "I don't think you'll have a bump, but it'll probably _kill_ for a few hours. It's my fault for provoking him…"

"You never answered my question," she argued, shying away from his touch. "Where're we going?"

He smiled. "The last place anyone would think to look for you. Or at least, that's what I've been told."


	17. The Manor

More aptly named, _Young Sir and the Woman_. But alas, I cannot name it that…

**Chapter Seventeen: The Manor**

The road passed quickly. Raven fell asleep for some amount of the drive, and when she awoke, the limousine was driving through a bumpy road that curved through a thick forest. Finally, after another ten minutes of driving, the forest ended, she could finally see the mansion that lay ahead. It was ornate, as was everything around it. The black gates were shining in the moonlight, dangerously spiked at the top. The matching black fence seemed to stretch left and right for miles.

The limousine stopped just outside the gates. Cameron stirred abruptly, pressing an intercom button beside the darkened window. "It's me."

"Ah, young Sir. Welcome back." The voice was unfamiliar to Raven, but the formality made her wonder where Cameron had taken her.

"Is _he_ in?"

Raven noticed how he glanced at her, and how he had lowered his voice.

"Yes, young Sir. Master Wilson is in. Would you like your—"

The voice continued, but Raven felt her breath leave her. "Master Wilson?" she whispered, peering up at the manor as the limo lurched forward. She spun, facing Cameron with desperate eyes. "Not—"

He grinned, gently putting a hand over her mouth. "You figured it out? Well… Slade will never know you're here. Hopefully," he added, winking.

Raven collapsed against the door, resting her throbbing head on the window. _Slade._ She inwardly groaned. _Slade._

"Are you alright? You look pale."

"I'm always pale," she snapped, slapping his hand away when he reached toward her. It occurred to her how warm his hand was, and how cool Jason's was. She sat upright, about to inquire when the limo stopped, and a voice over the intercom came again. A different one. A familiar one.

"Cameron," Slade's icy voice began, his tone already reprimanding. "May I ask _why_ you—"

"Slade, I had an errand to run," he retorted smoothly, though his expression was anxious. He mouthed _What's wrong?_ to her, holding out his hand to her forehead again.

She leaned away, shaking her head. As she turned to look out the window, she caught her own reflection in the glass and was shocked at the look of panic on her face. She took a silent breath and then exhaled, repeating it twice more until her reflection became slightly more natural.

"And what exactly _was_ that errand?" Slade asked after a moment.

"I had to get something," he said, simplifying the truth. "Nothing big."

"Master Wilson," the first voice said to Slade, still over the intercom, but quieter—farther away. "Project 168684 is completed. Will you—"

"I'll run a check. Cameron?"

"Yeah?"

A pause, and then, "We'll discuss this _errand_ later."

The crackle coming from the speaker cut off. Cameron released the button and leaned back, taking a deep, relieved breath. It was only after a few seconds that he sat up again, tugging on Raven's am, pulling her out the door. "We need to go _now_, while Slade's checking the Project."

_Project?_

Raven went along limply, her headache getting worse in the glaring moonlight. "Cameron," she said as soon as they were in a warmer, dimmer, deserted hallway. "What're we—"

He clapped a hand over her mouth again, holding a finger to his lips. "Shh!" he hissed, prodding her through a maze of halls and doorways before finally ending up in a large room. There was a bed in the middle, canopied in gold and red tassels, and a curtained archway that led to another room. "Sit down," he commanded as he gestured to an arrangement of couches and chairs near a lit fireplace.

She obeyed gladly, confused but relieved to sit on a long, soft couch. She unzipped Cameron's jacket, fastening her robe tighter before she laid on her side. The flames sputtered a few feet away, warming her face, sending her into a thawing bliss.

"Here," Cameron said from behind her, throwing a heavy blanket over her. "Until you get some clothes."

"Thanks," she replied, sitting up with a yawn. "You said you would explain everything, didn't you?"

"Yes," he nodded, sitting on a couch across from her. "But what would you like to know about?"

"Why doesn't Jason want me to touch him? Why is his skin so _cold_? Why—"

"One question at a time, Raven!" He chuckled, rolling his eyes. "He doesn't want you to touch him? That's not like him."

"Is it because of his memories?"

He raised a brow, crossing his arms. "Well, if you have an ESP, or something, I suppose it would be that he doesn't want you raiding his memory bank. But that's odd, too… since you know about him, I would think he had nothing to hide."

"Know about him?" Her headache became a distant memory. "What do you mean? Wait—why did you call him Raphael?"

Cameron gave her a blank stare. "You're kidding. You've been living in his apartment, and you _don't know_?"

"Don't know _what_?"

He blinked a few times, then started laughing.

"What?"

"It's just…"

"_What_?"

"It's ridiculous, you not knowing, and having an ESP… I mean, doesn't he do some suspicious things?"

Raven considered the past few days. "Well, besides disappearing into thin air, having strange memories, going unknown places, and otherwise being completely deranged, not really."

"Interesting," Cameron mused, leaning forward. He reached a hand out, his fingers near her throat. "But this…"

She froze, grabbing at the collar around her neck. "You know what it is? What it does? Whose it is?"

"It's Gabriel's," he answered running a finger over the metal. "It's a cancellation band."

"Which is?"

He pursed his lips, leaning back again. "It cancels powers, technically. But—"

"That makes sense!" Raven hissed, looking down, thinking. "Since his memories only come to me because of my powers, _that's_ why he could touch me!" A thought occurred to her— "Who's Gabriel?"

Cameron winced at the name. He rose from the couch, holding his hands behind his back, pacing the room. "It's a long story… Or, rather, an intricate one."

"Summarize."

"Young Sir," someone called from the hallway before he could reply. "Master Wilson would like to speak with you."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

He rolled his eyes while walking closer to Raven. "This room is one of mine," he whispered, leaning down to be heard. "Use it. If no one suspects anything, you should be fine in here until morning. Go to sleep—I'll be down the hall. This entire wing is reserved for me, and the servants don't spread rumors if they know what's good for them. Still, I'd prefer you to be quiet until I come get you. Do you understand?"

She nodded, and then grabbed his wrist when he turned to go. "Can I have some clothes?"

He smirked. "Sure. I'll send some once I'm done talking with Slade."

"Don't you have anything here?"

He laughed and jerked away from her, quickly stripping off his shirt and handing it to her. "Put it on… You don't want pants, I hope?" He fingered his belt, beginning to unfasten it.

She shook her head, holding up a hand. "No, really, I'm fine… you're worse than your brother."

His hand was instantly under her chin, jerking her head up so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. "Never say that," he said slowly. His tone wasn't angry or harsh, but rather agonizingly sad. "I'm not like him. I don't want to be like him."

She stood still, holding Cameron's shirt in one hand, until the door closed behind him.


	18. A Single Gunshot

This chapter needs a DUN DUN DUNNN at the beginning, so…

**DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNN!**

bows

**Chapter Eighteen: A Single Gunshot**

Slade stood at the end of the bed, watching her sleep. She seemed so innocent when she was unconscious… so _human_. He smirked behind his mask at the thought, knowing quite well the terrible power she could unleash, and had unleashed. She had used it for good, going against her father, but Slade had to wonder what sort of damage she would do if she fell into the darkness in her heart. He imagined her as a demonic queen, calling herself Empress, with whips and chains, manacles, fire and brimstone…

_Oh, yes. That would be an interesting version of Earth._

He focused his thoughts back to her for a mere moment before looking over his shoulder at the clock. It was 6:58 am—he planned to let her sleep until seven, just to give her enough rest.

Slade figured she would need it. If his assumptions had been correct, the previous day had been tiring for her—she seemed dead when he walked through the door—and the coming morning would most likely be stressful as well. He may be a villain, but he honored manners… and anyone who would possibly give him information on his new assistant.

_Cameron, Cameron, Cameron…_ He dipped his head, thinking. Cameron was not a newly acquired apprentice, per say, but the only thing Slade knew was that he had a brother who, apparently, had destroyed any positive mentality Cameron originally had. Slade wasn't even sure _how_ the Rellik brother had done so, but it was clear that Cameron's outlook on life had darkened since.

He slowly moved to the side of the bed, looking down at Raven and noticing for the first time her odd taste in pajamas. Only a single black strap was visible under the heavy blankets, but it was obvious that she was wearing nothing but her inadequate underwear. A shirt—Cameron's, he knew—was sprawled across the chair next to the bed. He wondered why she hadn't put it on, although that was the most minor of his questions.

The clock ticked to the seven loudly, the only sound besides Raven's quiet breathing. Slade reached out to the industrial-looking lamp to his left and switched it on. Raven's eyelids creased, instinctively shying away from the light.

"Jason?" she mumbled, shielding her eyes with a lethargic hand. "Go away…"

_Jason?_ Another question to be answered.

"I'm not quite your beloved Jason, dear child."

Her eyes shot open and she flung herself upright in shock, covering herself with the sheets. Terror was written on her face, but Slade didn't notice it—he was examining the band around her neck.

"You!" she spluttered, too stunned to move. "What're you doing here?"

"I _live_ here," he chuckled, turning away from the bed and crossing the room. He stopped in the massive doorway, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm not going to harm you. Come to breakfast when you're ready."

Raven watched him leave, her entire frame shaking. It wasn't until her stomach growled that she awoke from her daze. Slowly recovering from Slade's unpleasantly sudden appearance, she stumbled out of the bed, grabbing Cameron's shirt again, trying not to inhale its scent. It didn't smell bad; rather, it smelled good… like Jason. She had taken it off after she had realized what the familiar scent was from, having difficulties with the fact that she was bothered by such a minute detail.

But now the scent gave her a reason to move. Perhaps she would see Cameron again, and he could tell her about Jason. Or perhaps Slade knew and would tell her.

She let out a shaky laugh, trying to release the tension coursing through her. She was halfway to the door before she realized she had nothing to wear.

Initially, that would've made her laugh as well—_nothing to wear?_—but now it sent fear through her. She spun, about to put on Cameron's shirt when her eyes moved over a pile of black clothes. She was reaching out to get them when a knock at the door startled her.

"Yes?" she asked, struggling to make her voice steady.

"May I come in, Miss?" It was a female voice, low, calm, and gentle. "I'm Dr. Kittslinger."

_A doctor?_ Raven turned as the door opened and a neatly dressed woman came in. An air of business surrounded her as she neared Raven, her low white heels clicking on the floor. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun that went well with her long, white dress. It had patches on the shoulders and a pin on her chest just above her name, _Mary C. Kittslinger_.

"How are you?" she asked, setting her black bag on the corner of the bed. She stayed a few feet from Raven, inspecting her.

"I'm fine," she answered warily.

"The Master told me to come up here, but he didn't say why. Now I understand. Tell me, where did you receive those cuts?"

"What?"

Dr. Kittslinger stepped forward and placed a hand under Raven's chin, turning her head to the side. "The cuts on your cheek. They look shallow, and surprisingly well-cared for. You received them more than I week ago, I assume?"

"No… I got them two days ago."

The doctor shook her head, dropping her hand. "No, honey. That's not possible. They're already at least six days into the healing process."

Raven opened her mouth to argue but then shut it again, know it would be pointless to reason it out. She just shrugged and crossed her arms.

"The Master never mentioned your bruise, though," Dr. Kittslinger muttered, touching the right side of Raven's forehead. She winced away. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," she admitted, wondering why Slade had sent a doctor.

"Well, it seems to be a little newer than the cuts, but it'll go away in a day or two. I think you'll be fully healed in another week or so, if you keep taking good care of yourself. I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"It's okay," Raven said, waiting until the doctor left to turn back to the clothes, still vexed on why her team's nemesis cared enough to make sure she was in good health. Of course, a sleepover with a villain—or something like it—was strange in itself.

The clothes were, for the most part, fitting. There was a simple black t-shirt a little tight for her taste and a pair of black pants, loosely fitting and decorated in silver rings and chains. It wasn't her normal attire, but Raven liked the color.

She combed a finger through her hair, peering into the reflection of herself in the mirror. The doctor had been right; her cuts looked more healed than they should have. For some reason, Jason came to mind as she thought about it. She shook her head and started out the door, taking a few steps down the roomy hall before she realized that she had no idea where she was going.

"Excuse me," said a voice from behind her. She spun and saw a red-haired boy leaning against the wall next to the bedroom's door. He looked to be about fourteen, but his eyes held so much weariness and regret that he could've been twenty. "You're Raven?"

She nodded.

"Come with me." He began walking down the hall behind him, not even glancing at her to see if she was following.

Raven let her eyes wander as she walked, finding herself shocked that Slade lived in such an extravagant mansion. Whenever they came upon another hallway, she looked down the long stretch of emptiness and saw many intersections farther down, with no obvious end to them.

"We're here," the boy finally said, gesturing to a doorway to the left. "I will not be joining you."

Raven hesitated, staring up at the door, and then slowly went through it. This time, she was not surprised: a long, oak table ran down the length of the room, surrounded by matching chairs. The only other feature seemed to be the dark curtains blocking most of the light filtering through the windows.

The door closed behind her, too hard to be of its own will. She spun to face Slade, who was standing with his arm outstretched, left hanging after it had closed the door. "Please," he said slowly. "Sit." She didn't move until he brushed past her, pulling out a chair at the head of the table. "Or aren't you hungry?" He left the chair and strode to the windows, standing with his back to her.

After a delayed pause, she sat cautiously in the chair.

Instantly, a slim girl with black hair appeared, blood flecked on the sleeve of her white shirt, seemingly furious. "You called?" she snarled, flickering her glance to Raven.

"Evangeline, please change your shirt, wash your hands, and then help Miss Amber serve my guest breakfast. And please mention none of this to Sir Cameron, if you will," he amended as she left. He looked at Raven. "Excuse Evangeline's rudeness."

Then another girl appeared, with short tawny hair this time, carrying a tray of food. "I'm sorry for the delay," she murmured as she set the tray in front of Raven.

"It's alright," Raven replied dimly. The girl had rushed away too quickly to have heard it. She slowly picked up a fork, eyeing the pancakes with suspicion.

"They aren't poisoned," Slade said loudly, from beside her.

She jerked her head up, having not noticed him move. "What do you mean?"

"You thought I would poison you just because we're not on the same side?"

Narrowing her eyes in annoyance, she showily cut a piece of pancake and put it her mouth, turning back to him while she slowly chewed. Once she swallowed, she smirked. "Happy?"

"Thrilled," he retorted, beginning to pace the length of the table. "Now, while you eat, let me explain to you why I haven't destroyed you yet." She froze at the word _destroy_; she was no more than an ant to him—a pawn. "If you haven't figured it out already, let me say that Cameron is my apprentice. Of course, I have many, but he is the one that presents the most mystery. I know he has a brother—"

_Jason…_

"—who hurt him somehow, but besides that, and the fact that he has advanced skills in breaking into places, I really have no idea _who_ he is. Now, since you are, in some way, precious enough to him that he thinks he can bring you here, I assume you know a bit more about him than I do."

Raven swallowed a piece of sausage and put down her fork. "I met him yesterday," she clarified. "And that wasn't ten minutes before we left to come here. I'm in the dark, too."

"I'll come back to that question, then," he said, continuing. "Now, who would Jason be?"

She pursed her lips, looking away. _What does Slade have to gain by…?_ "He's Cameron's brother."

"Oh, really now?"

"Yes, _really now_. Where's Cameron, anyway? I needed to—"

"After he came to see me last night, I sent him to his room, where he was locked in by one of my more _loyal_ tenants. Unless he managed to escape, he's still there right now."

"How did you know? Did he tell you that I—"

"When an apprentice comes in without his shirt on, I begin to get suspicious. When I asked to search his rooms, he declined far too quickly—I wouldn't have found you if he hadn't been so concerned about you. Which brings me back to my point: dear child, why did Cameron bring you here?"

Raven stared at the table until Slade paced back towards her. He set a hand on the back of a chair, leaning forward slightly over the table.

"Can you speak?" he mocked. "Or do I need to bring Cameron in and interrogate him myself? I won't hurt you, but I'm afraid I can't promise the same for that troublesome little teenager."

She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, looking up at him. "Fine," she spat, pushing her chair back. "But I refuse to sit down."

Slade's only visible eyes widened, but then narrowed again in amusement. "Do what you please. But begin your explanation soon."

She shoved her chair in harder than needed, splashing the orange juice over the rim of the glass. "It's not much of an explanation," she said evenly. "All I could figure out was that Jason somehow killed his parents, but not directly. Cameron seemed angry because he only had had himself on his side, and he always tried to save their loved ones as Jason did nothing." She looked at Slade. "But that doesn't help you at all, now does it?"

"Is that sarcasm I hear?" He took a swift step around the table and snapped his fingers. "Remember whose domain you are in."

Raven took her eyes off him for a quick second, watching as panels high on the walls turned, much like the Tower's security system, to display a variety of fixed guns, all of them pointed at her.

"A suggestion, sweet Raven; don't play with guns."

Trying not to move, she turned back to him, hating the look in his singular eye. He was entertained with the fear that she knew was in her eyes.

"Are you going to kill me, then?" she challenged. "It would be a waste of bullets. Cameron said that if I stuck with Jason, I'd be killed anyway."

"Yes," he considered. "But I wouldn't see it for myself." He raised his hand again, fingers tensed together, ready to snap. "These guns won't be triggered by a hand motion," he stated.

She stared at him. "So why—"

"It's merely for effect." She could practically hear him smiling. "Now—should I shoot you once, in the head, so it kills you immediately? Or should I let you die an agonizingly long, painful death?"

"Touch her, and you die."

Raven forgot the guns and whirled to face the windowed side of the room where Jason stood, his eyes blazing, his fists clenched. "Jason!" she whispered and stepped toward him.

"Stay where you are!" he ordered, still glaring at Slade. "Now, _you_. Old man. You want to shoot someone? Shoot me."

"No!" Raven yelled as the guns slowly clicked into their new position, now pointed at him.

Slade started walking toward Jason, turning his back on Raven. She opened her mouth to yell, ready to race forward at the masked man, when a hand slid silently over her mouth, another around her waist, pulling her smoothly backwards.

"You're coming with me," Cameron ordered, holding her against him as he went out the door.

"But—"

"Shut up," he hissed, releasing his hold as soon as they were in the hallway. He grabbed her wrist, keeping her from going back. "Jason knows what he's doing."

Raven heard Slade speaking, but couldn't make out the words. Jason said something in reply, even quieter, and then silence.

"What's going on?" she wondered as she was jerked into an elevator. "Cameron, why—"

Her words caught in her throat as the doors closed, the sound of a single gunshot ricocheting down the hall.

"Jason!" she screamed, slamming her hands on the closed doors. "Jason!" She spun on Cameron, grabbing his arm. "We have to go back! Make this take us back! We need to go help him!" Her vision blurred, but she ignored the tears and turned to the panel of buttons. "What level were we on? Cameron, _what level_?"

"We're not going back," he said quietly. She froze, shaking. "Raven, we—"

"He's going to die!"

"If he was going to die because of that shot, he'd already be dead."

"He probably is!" She furiously wiped her cheeks, facing him again. "Don't you care about your brother at all?"

His eyes softened, but he didn't answer. "Raven…"

"He's your brother!" She shoved him backwards. "Dammit! Do something!"

"Hey!" he yelped, straightening again. He caught her wrists, pulling them closer, keeping her from pushing him again. But she became limp, leaning forward, her forehead resting on his chest. Closing her eyes, she tried to stop crying.

_He's dead_, she thought weakly. _Gone. He's never coming back… because of me._


	19. Uncertainty

**Chapter Nineteen: Uncertainty**

"Where would you like to go?"

Raven jerked her head up, straightening. Cameron hadn't spoken since they'd gotten to the car. He'd led her to it—she didn't remember the walk—and then he'd driven away from the manor. She looked out the windows at the cornfields and then at the rearview mirror, where Cameron's questioning expression was reflected.

"What…? What do you mean?"

"Do you want to go back to your Tower?" He shifted his eyes to the road. "Or do you want to go to Jason's apartment?"

Instantly, her emotions became guarded. "What would be the point in that?" she chuckled.

"I'm going there," he stated, looking back at her.

Raven froze as soon as she realized that his eyes were no longer silver, but a mix of green and brown. "You?" she asked in horror as, strand by strand, his hair changed from black to brown. "Or are you….?"

"People _change_, my darling." He raised a hand from the steering wheel and she watched as the skin itself rippled and changed, and then black leather flowed from further up arm to make a glove. He made a fist, smiling at her as the leather made a noise, stretching. "Now, where do you want to go? Unless you want to kill me… but then I'll crash the car. It's not a good idea to crash on a highway, though."

Blankly, she stared at him. "You're going to take me wherever I want to—wait. If you're Cameron, then… Jason…?" The rest of the sentence caught unpleasantly in her throat. "Was that really…?"

"That really was Jason, the idiot that he is. But like I said, he knows what he's doing… probably."

"Probably? He's _dead_ by now!"

"Again, like I said, he's—"

"What, do you think he's immortal?"

The teenager raised a brow, smirked, and then started laughing. When he had composed himself a minute later, he asked, "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me _what_?"

'_You've been living in his apartment, and you don't know?'_

"Cameron said that, too," she added. "What didn't Jason tell me? What is he, a god?"

"Not nearly that," he continued, turning off of the highway. "And he's not immortal, either."

"That's obvious." It occurred to her that he hadn't taken the Jump City exit—rather, the one a few before. "Where are you taking me?"

"Jason's apartment. He should be there… eventually."

"Are you insane?" Her tone was sharper than intended. "He's dead now, because you were too concerned with taking me to help him! Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Gabriel… didn't I tell you?"

"No—Gabriel? So _you_ put this thing on me?" She tugged at the collar around her neck, frustrated. "And—"

'_You know Gabriel will just order her dead!'_

"And?" he asked when she didn't continue.

"And… you're going to kill me?"

Somehow, Raven wasn't surprised when he started laughing again. What startled her was how sharply he stopped, meeting her eyes in the mirror again. "I won't… yet. Know this, however—if you interfere with anything, I will, and I'll make sure your precious Rellik brothers watch."

"Rellik?"

"Jason and Cameron. Their last name—or what was assigned to be their last name—is Rellik."

"Assigned?"

"Are you always this inquisitive?"

She looked out the window again, resting her forehead on the glass. "Only when I have no idea what's going on! Every time I ask someone something, they just laugh, or get called away before they can answer!"

"What do you want to ask?"

She jerked around to see him. "Are you really going to tell me?"

"If I know it, yes. My mission _is_ to distance you from Jason, anyway."

She wanted to ask why that was his 'mission,' but she shook her head and asked, "What secret is Jason keeping?"

"I wish I knew. He has some secrets against me."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine—how do you know Jason?"

"Where I'm from, he's our Father."

Raven coughed, choking on a breath. "What?"

"He's our Father. Priest. Whatever."

"Oh," she breathed. "I thought—"

"No, I'm not his son. Next question?"

She could think of a hundred—no, thousand—questions to ask, but an odd one stuck out in her mind. "Is Cameron _really_ Jason's brother?"

"Yes… mostly."

"Mostly?"

He chuckled again, darkly. "They have the same mother and the same father. They were brought up together. Etcetera, etcetera."

"So, why does Cameron hate Jason?"

"I…" His brow furrowed and the car slowed to a stop. Raven realized they were already at the apartment, but turned her attention back to Gabriel. "That's what I'm trying to figure out. Now, let me ask _you_ something—do you truly know nothing about either of the Relliks?"

"I don't know very much, no." She opened the door, shivering as her skin met with the icy November chill. She took three steps and then turned to close the car door. But her hand had left the door, and neither the car nor Gabriel were there.

— — — — —

A second after Jason hit the ground, Cameron shoved through the doorway, absolutely livid. "Goddammit!" he yelled, glancing from his brother to Slade. "You just _have_ to shoot _every damn thing_ that moves, don't—"

"But you just left," Slade interrupted. "Where's Raven?"

"I don't know! Wherever you locked her up!"

"No—you just went through the door with her!"

"Does it _look_ like I have Raven with me?" he snapped back, kneeling next to Jason. He turned Jason's head to get a better look at the wound—it was a small bullet directly to the brain on the back of his head. "And it's in the _head_! Great!"

"He's dead," Slade stated, narrowing his eye.

"Yeah, well, you need to practice your guessing skills."

He was about to retort when Cameron disappeared into nothingness, Jason's body gone as well.

— — — — —

Just as Charity stepped inside Gabriel's bedroom, prepared for interrogation, she nearly screamed. There was an odd girl in the bed—beautiful, with fiery red hair, her limbs tangled in the brilliantly white sheets. She was sleeping strangely, with her feet near the pillow.

"Hello?" Charity wondered, stepping forward cautiously. _Who is she?_

The girl twitched at her voice, and one eye cracked open. She raised her arms, languidly stretching before she sat up and turned to face Charity. "Good morning," she said pleasantly, if not a bit puzzled, before beginning to rise.

Charity gasped, rushing out the door, throwing an "Excuse my intrusion!" over her shoulder. The girl… it was clear who she was. Based off her clothes—or lack of them—she was the girl Gabriel had chosen.

_Why does he need her?_ She sighed, wandering the length of the hallway. _Unless… he's still trying to figure out what Angel's Death is…_ She paused as she came upon a locked door, but only momentarily. She drew the ornate key from her pocket and unlocked it, relocking it again as soon as she was on the other side.

The room was pitch black, but an eerie, violet glow came from a large pool that seemed to have no end. The water was perfectly still, albeit radiating the strange light. She bent down, sitting at the edge of it. _Hello, father,_ she smiled, reaching to skim the purple surface with her fingertips. She rolled her eyes as the water pulsated and splashed her, almost as if in a greeting. _Let me think,_ she mentally groaned, lying back on the smooth, black marble, beginning to contemplate.


	20. As the Sun Meets the Horizon

**Chapter Twenty: As the Sun Meets the Horizon**

Starfire fell backwards into the soft bedding as soon as the golden-haired girl had left. She could feel a breeze from the open window, and she thought it odd to feel it on her entire body instead of merely her face. With a sharp gasp of comprehension, she flung herself upright, trying to remember what had happened—is anything _had_ happened—between Gabriel and her.

_Starfire was completely disoriented when she woke, too tired for the amount she must have slept. It was nearly dusk; the sun was halfway below the horizon already._

_The last thing she could recall was Gabriel kissing her. And then her dream… it was a nightmare. Something had happened to Robin. No—something had happened to _Gabriel_. And then she was in the strange bed, looking at a beautiful—but unfamiliar—painting that hung on the adjacent wall._

"_Ah, you're awake?"_

_She spun, facing Gabriel as he walked, smiling, into the room. The same pleasant warmth surged through her again, just as it had before. Her confusion dimmed, and it didn't seem to matter where she was._

_Breaking her thoughts when he sat down on the edge of the bed, Gabriel spoke gently. "I'm sorry I brought you here, since it made your condition a little shaky. You've been sleeping for more than nine hours… but I couldn't visit you regularly while you were at the Tower."_

"_Why?"_

"_It was simply too risky," he laughed. "Do you think I want to make Robin angry?"_

"_Oh… but he will also be angry if I am not in the Tower. Perhaps—"_

"_If you get into trouble with him, I'll take the blame. Okay?" He grinned, making her heart leap into such abrupt motion that it startled her. Starfire felt her face grow hot when Gabriel tilted his head and asked, "Do you want anything to eat?"_

"_Oh—yes, thank you—I—"_

"_Come with me." He took her elbow and hoisted her to her feet, pulling her quickly but tenderly to an archway at the side of the room. It led to a large balcony overlooking a garden ten feet below and had a small table in the middle of it, on the table a quaint dinner set-up. "Please, sit," he directed, pulling out a chair._

_She obliged, inhaling the mouthwatering scent of the food. But she felt no desire to eat it—rather, she felt slightly nauseated. Looking up at him, she began to say she wasn't hungry when she realized that he had prepared it especially for her; there was no second plate, only the one set out for her use._

_Starfire picked up the fork tentatively, pushing a sauce-covered piece of meat slightly to the left before moving on to the mashed potatoes. She traded the spoon for the fork and ate a bite, slowly swallowing, waiting to see if her stomach would accept the food. It did, surprisingly, but she suddenly felt thirsty and reached for the goblet._

_The clear liquid inside smelled faintly of fruit and alcohol, making her swirl it warily in the glass. The whirling motion of it made her stomach lurch and she quickly took a large gulp of the wine, if it was wine at all._

The memory was unclear from there—the alcohol must have had some effect on her mind. What would she have done after drinking that? She shivered in the breeze, swallowing convulsively. She seemed to remember Gabriel kissing her again—on her lips, then her forehead—and then his face hovering next to her as she lay on the bed, unclothed.

Surges of panic ran through her veins, making her head throb and her breath shaky. Perhaps her imbibing had made her drunk, and Gabriel had merely helped her get back to the bedroom.

_But to wake without any attire…_ Her mind filled in the rest of the sentence. She may not have been from Earth, but she hasn't remained so naïve as the years on the planet had passed. _Did he… 'take advantage' of me?_ The distrust hurt as she began to accept that theory as possible. _But would he do that? How far would…_

She felt his fingers trailing her leg again, a memory of their first encounter… Or was it from the previous night? A fresh wave of terror spread; _How long have you known him?_ she was forced to ask herself. _Mere days; no length for judging a person's character._

"What have I done?" she whispered, holding a pillow against her body. As her skin touched the fabric, she remember the sound of a moan—her own, a guttural noise that hung in her mind. A tear skidded down her cheek, but it seemed to be another memory until it hit the pillow, another coming quickly after it. There was a knock at the door—sharp and decisive. "Princess?" Gabriel called, beginning to enter.

She didn't remember moving and only realized she had when her hands slammed into the door with inhuman strength, slamming back into its place. "Do… do not…"

"Starfire? Are you alright?"

"Yes," she choked out, attempting to sound slightly less distraught. "But please, do not come in!"

"Do you need help with anything?"

"No! Please, simply leave!"

"I'll send in Charity, okay?"

Starfire felt the opposing force weaken and let her arms drop from the door, no strength left to tell him not to send in anyone. She sank to the floor, wanting desperately to return to the Tower, to confide in Robin, or Raven, or _anyone_ familiar.

_But Robin…_ She stumbled to her feet, searching for clothing of any kind. _Would he be accepting if I spoke with him about what may have occurred?_ With a trembling sigh, she tried to imagine his expression. Shock, at first, across his features, and then… disgust? Hatred? Sympathy, possibly? She grimaced in dislike. She didn't need pity, especially if it was from Robin.

Another voice outside the door startled her—apparently, Gabriel had retrieved someone immediately. "Excuse me?"

She sank into the bed, covering herself with a sheet. "Y-yes?"

"May I come in?"

"Yes." It sounded like a question rather than an approval.

The door opened, creaking, and a silver-haired woman came in. When she stepped closer, Starfire corrected her thinking—it wasn't an elderly woman; it was a teenager, only a few years older than herself, with straight, shining silver hair and dark black eyes. The girl's appearance made Starfire nervous.

"You… are Charity?"

The girl shook her head, brushing stray strands of hair from her eyes. "No. I'm Aurora. Charity is… busy, Gabriel said, though I'm sure he actually has no idea where she is. Now, you must be Princess Starfire of Tamaran. A pleasure, to be sure."

Starfire opened her mouth to speak, not able to begin before Aurora continued.

"I brought you some clothing." She held out the bundle in her arms. "Gabriel wanted me to ask what's wrong, although I think I already understand. You think you slept with him, right?" She smirked, putting the clothes on the bed. In a manner Starfire thought to be audacious, Aurora took her arm and yanked her from the bed. "Now, do you want to wear a dress or just some regular Earthen clothes? Whatever it is, I'm sure we have it. Though, in your size…" She ran a skeptical eye over Starfire, who was trying her best to cover herself. "You're rail thin but have great curves. I wonder if all Tamaraneans are like you… no matter! What do you want to wear?"

"I would—"

"Something that shows off your stuff—for Gabriel?" She closed one eye and tilted her head. "No, I suppose not. You don't seem very happy about last night. Something conservative, then?"

Starfire had the chance to nod quickly, and then Aurora reached towards the bed, first throwing her underwear and a bra. "Not a push-up!" she noted cheerily.

"Excuse me," Starfire mumbled, raising one hand. "I wonder if you could possibly…?"

Aurora winked and turned towards the bed. "Sure thing! I won't look! Now, do you want jeans, or a skirt, or what? Ooh! How about this?" Without looking, she held up a long green skirt and a purple turtleneck. "They're _so_ your colors!"

Starfire snapped the strap of the bra into place and instantly reached for the things Aurora had extended to her. As soon as she was fully dressed, she sat down, her head throbbing. An irritating buzz was in her ear, which didn't improve while she rested.

"Hey!" a sharp voice called. Starfire jerked her head up as the door opened, midway through strapping on a purple pair of low heels. "Gabriel wants to see you now, Princess!" The girl was the same as Aurora—same voice, same clothing, same features… but the way she carried herself was slightly different.

"Hello, Lex," Aurora replied, kneeling at Starfire's feet, promptly taking the shoe from her and putting it on hastily. "Does he really?"

"Yeah!"

"Well then! Starry-honey, you've got to go to him!"

"No, he's coming here!" Lex giggled, pulling at Aurora's arm. "And he wants to speak with her… _alone_! I'm so jealous!"

"Wait!" Starfire yelped, losing her balance as she groped for Aurora's other arm. But she tripped; by the time she caught herself, the door was closing heavily in their wake.

She lifted her head, feeling feverish. But she stumbled to the curtained doorway that led into the courtyard, holding herself against the pillar, peering out. She debated the chances of getting lost in the vast place—she decided those chances were too high to try to escape. Unwillingly, with a knot forming in her stomach, she sat on the floor, leaning against another pillar. It was cold against her back, easily going through the light sweater. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. She wanted to avoid Gabriel, and yet she wanted to see him, to ask what happened.

When she opened her eyes again, breathing in slowly, her breath caught in her throat. Terror swept through her—he was standing only a few feet away, his hands on the marble windowsill, looking out at the garden. He didn't seem to see her as she sat there, watching him, frozen in alarm.

After a minute, she remembered herself and slowly rose to her feet, waiting to be acknowledged. He was like a statue—he didn't blink, he didn't seem to breathe… it was haunting. It wasn't until another excruciatingly long minute when he dropped his eyes, glancing at her without otherwise moving. "I don't understand."

She nearly jumped at his voice but managed to hold still, not sure how to reply.

"I don't," he repeated, his tone solemn. As soon as he raised his eyes to hers, she grew even more uneasy. Behind his eyes lay an upsetting amount of regret and misery. "I can't read minds," he whispered. Everything else seemed silent. "Tell me… what do you want me to do?"

"I…" She couldn't bring herself to ask what she needed to. "I wish to go home. For now," she added, shrinking back when his expression faltered.

"Of course," he nodded, pausing a moment to see if she would continue. But she didn't—he reached for her, grabbing her wrist. Starfire gasped and felt his body close to hers just before a falling sensation came over her. "Stay still," he commanded. She could tell he was trying to be gentle but his voice was strangled and rough, and it made her wonder if leaving him was really the right thing to do.


	21. Raphael, Reincarnated

**Chapter Twenty-One: Raphael, Reincarnated**

"Gabriel!" Jason yelled, storming down the hallway, Cameron trotting a few steps behind. "Where do you get off taking—"

"I see the gunshot didn't make you any less loud," Gabriel murmured, only moving his eyes to the pair before continuing to gaze out the archway at the gardens. He saw the pagoda and inwardly winced, but couldn't tear his eyes away. He could still picture her, sitting—

"Where the fuck is Raven?" Cameron shouted, taking him by the front of his robes, shaking him slightly. "Where _is_ she?"

"Dammit, Gabriel, what did you do to—"

"She's fine," he muttered, turning his head to look outside. "They're both fine. Good to see you again, Cameron."

"Bastard!" Cameron growled, shoving him away. "You know where she is—now tell us!"

"Wait," Jason interrupted, yanking his brother back. "'They'? You said _they_. Who is _they_?"

Gabriel shrugged and turned away. "Raven is all that matters to you."

"Not anymore!" Cameron began, falling silent when Jason reached a hand back to cover his mouth.

Gabriel stepped out of the room and into the sunlight, although the sky was now covered in dark clouds, promising a storm. "Just go see for yourself. Leave me to think."

Jason narrowed his eyes. "Gabriel?" he wondered as Cameron pulled him away. The smug expression Gabriel usually was gone, washed away by an unexplainable emotion that could only be seen as a painful amount of guilt.

"Raphael," Cameron muttered. "Where do you think she is?"

"The… apartment," Jason shrugged, and instantly the white marble surroundings faded into the light shades of his apartment. There was only the faintest noise coming from the room Raven had stayed in.

Cameron pushed Jason forward, whispering, "I need to go check something," before vanishing. Jason nodded to no one in particular and stepped down the hallway, almost afraid of what he'd find.

The door to Raven's room was ajar. He could see her sitting on the edge of the bed, twirling something that glinted in her hands. _What…?_ He closed his eyes, took a breath, and knocked quietly.

"Who…? Open it," Raven ordered quietly. Her voice was low and steady, but a slight quiver made it clear that she had to fight to keep it under control.

"It's… it's me…"

He could see her stiffen suddenly. In an instant, she was in front of him, the door thrown open, her violet eyes comically wide. "Jason? But—no, you're dead—" Her grip tightening on the silver, glinting object in his hand—his knife? He looked down at it and then back up at her, a question on the tip of his tongue. But she held up the weapon, keeping the blade positioned toward him.

"Listen," he said calmly, taking a step forward, feeling the tip of the knife prod his stomach. "I know I'm supposed to be dead and gone and not standing here right now, but I _am_ still alive. And I have to explain it, sure, but—"

"Are you really… you? Or are _you_ Gabriel, too?"

"No, I'm not—wait, did Gabriel do anything to—" Jason had taken a few steps forward and froze, feeling a burning pain in his abdomen. "He looked down, muttering a curse under his breath as Raven jerked herself away, pulling the knife from where it had punctured his skin.

Jason cracked a smile, oddly enough. "Ow… Raven?" he wondered, covering the wound lightly with his hand as he looked up.

She was pressed against the wall to his right, even more pale than usual and looking horrified.

"Maybe you should put my knife down…"

The metal object hit the floor with a clatter. Not a second later, Raven grabbed Jason and shoved him back on the bed, peeling back the bloodied shirt. Her hand, already glowing black, trailed over his stomach, but before she touched his skin he pushed her back, laughing quietly.

"You get panicked so easily," he chuckled, standing up. She reached to stop him, but he caught her wrists and shook his head. "Just… watch."

"What?"

He let go of her arms and lifted the edge of his shirt again, smirking.

Raven's mouth dropped open. Forcing her eyes to focus on the wound, she watched as the patch of red flesh slowly got smaller and then, after a minute, closer over completely, with only a bit of pink below the surface of the skin. "What did you do?" she asked, running a finger over his stomach, recoiling the instant his muscles twitched under her light touch.

"I always heal like that," Jason smiled mischievously, turning to the hallway. He went into his room while she waited at the door, blushing crimson when he swiftly took of his shirt and threw it aside.

But then she was the marks again—those black marks, two of them, each across a shoulder blade. Before she willed herself to move, she was behind him, prodding his cool skin, running a fingernail down the dark markings.

"What're you doing?" Jason looked over his shoulder at her. "It tickles."

"What are these?" she asked. "I saw them before…"

"Hopefully, you'll never find out what they are." He turned back to the dresser and pulled out a shirt, waiting until Raven stepped away to put it on. "Now," he began, leading the way into the main room of the apartment, sitting on the couch. "Ask me anything."

She stared, sitting next to him. "Anything?"

"You might as well know what sort of freak I am, and I'd rather tell you myself before someone else does, like Gabriel."

She smirked. "Fine… what are the marks on your back?"

Jason laughed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Anything _but_ that."

Raven nodded, and then her face grew solemn as she thought about what to ask. "Alright," she said finally. "Did you survive that gunshot because you healed yourself, or because you didn't get shot in the first place?"

Jason put his elbow on the back of the couch and his head on his hand, grinning. "Oh, that guy in the mask shot me. In the head"—Raven inhaled sharply—"and so I healed myself. It wouldn't have taken as long if he hadn't shot me in the head, but hey, things happen."

"You call getting _shot_ 'things happening'?"

After a moment, he nodded. "Yes. I mean, after being reincarnated a thousand times, you get tired of just getting a boring job and working all the time."

"Reincarnated?"

"Yeah."

"What _are_ you? I mean, Gabriel said you were a priest and that you weren't a god… but _reincarnations_?"

"Gabriel spoke with you?"

"Yes—sort of—it doesn't matter, does it?"

Jason shrugged. "I suppose not. But what I am… well…"

"Does… does it have to do with archangels?"

"What?"

Raven winced and looked away. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."

"No, I'm curious—what made you say that?"

She sighed, twining her fingers together in her lap. Without looking at him, she explained; "Gabriel brought me here, so I figured I would wait here, thinking Cameron would come get me or something. I don't know, I was being stupid, I guess. But then I noticed that you had a computer in your room, and went to look at it… and I ended up going online and going to a search engine."

"And?" Jason encouraged.

"And, well… I knew that _his_ name was Gabriel, and everyone kept calling you Raphael, and then I vaguely remembered you muttering something about some 'idiot Michael' when I woke up from when I got hit by _someone_, and… so I looked up the three names, and… they were the names of archangels." She sighed again. "But it's ridiculous, because I'm pretty sure it's just a silly human belief, that little fat babies with wings are floating around the clouds with trumpets and golden-haired men in white cloaks are glowing, and…" She looked at him, startled to see him positively beaming. "Jason, what's—"

"Go on. What _else_ did you find online?"

"Well," she said uneasily, "there's a fourth angel—Uriel, I think—and all four of the angels have some control over a direction of wind… and they all rule of different aspects, and…" She shook her head. "It's all superstition, really. And I mainly focused on Raphael, since that's what they kept on calling you, and…"

"And? Go on, really. I'm interested!"

She paused a moment, racking her mind for the information. "Let's see… Raphael… he represents joy and compassion… creation… repentance, force, and the… west wind?"

Jason nodded. "You forgot that he represents love, too. And the apocalypse, but so does everyone but—"

"Uriel," Raven finished for him, her expression quizzical. "How did you know?"  
"Because you're right."

She cleared her throat. "What?"

"Gabriel is Gabriel, Michael is Michael, Uriel is—well, he's sort of in hibernation, I guess, but he's still Uriel."

"And you're…"

He nodded. "Raphael."

"No!" Raven yelped, leaping to her feet. "You aren't an archangel—you're a _thief_!"

"Raven, I—"

"Wait, so you have… wings? Oh, Azar, those things on your _back_….?"

Jason stood, reaching out to calm her down, but she twisted away.

"But if you're an angel—"

"Archangel," Jason corrected. After an awkward pause, he laughed. "Sorry, it's a habit—"

"Angels don't have—I mean, _arch_angels don't _have_ habits! They're pure and good and saintly and—" She froze. "Unless… you've come into contact with something evil? And I'm a demon—no! That's why you wouldn't let me touch you! And then I touched you on purpose, and—tainted you?" She pressed herself against the wall. "No, no, no… I can't be the one who makes an angel—_archangel_—impure!"

"Raven," Jason said slowly, extending a hand again. And again, she darted past him, this time escaping for the door.

"No! I have to leave—I'll, I'll poison your air or something! I just need to leave—" She reached toward the doorknob and instantly yanked her hand back—Jason had appeared in front of her, his arms crossed.

"Look, Ra—"

"Let me leave!" she yelled, clapping a hand over her mouth. "See?" she asked. "I'm yelling—at an _archangel_. A _demon_ is _yelling_ at an—"

"Will you relax?" Jason muttered, reappearing in her way when she spun, but not realizing quickly enough that she had tricked him out of her way and was now taking the steps flights at a time to get to the main floor. He appeared on the first floor, catching her arm as she stumbled out of the stairwell.

"Jas—Raphael, stop—"

"Don't call me Raphael," he groaned, refusing to let go even when she struggled.

"Why don't you get it?" she whimpered, trying to pull away. There were streaks down her face now, tears she didn't remember shedding. "I'm _evil_! Trigon's _daughter_! You're..." She sniffed back more tears, freeing one hand to hastily wipe her cheeks. "You're… _perfect_, or would've been if I hadn't—"

"That's not it at all," Jason tried to reassure her, holding her shoulders. "I'm tainted anyway, and will be in every reincarnation, and—"

"Let me g—"

"Let her _go_!"

Jason froze, releasing Raven. Robin was standing in the doorway of the hotel, looking severely angry, his bo-staff out and extended in front of him in a clearly protective manner. "Oh, not now," Jason murmured under his breath, taking a few steps away from Raven.

"So you helped the team, and now you want Raven to pay back the debt?" Robin asked, his eyes narrowed behind the mask. "Sounds pretty low to me."

"So you got helped out by someone who's not on your team and the instant you see them with a girl you assume they want to get laid?" Jason smirked. "Sounds pretty _low_ to _me_!"

"Sick bastard!" Robin yelled, leaping into the air, bo-staff positioned for attacking. Jason was gone from the spot before Robin landed. But before the leader could launch another attack, Raven grabbed his arm, pulling on it.

"Robin, don't attack him. _Please_."

"But he—"

"He didn't do anything. To me, or any other—"

"Raven, you don't have to—" Jason fell silent from the look Robin sent him.

"Let's go back to the Tower," Raven suggested quietly, dropping her eyes when they met with Jason's. "Please, Robin."


	22. Raphael, Reawakened

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Raphael, Reawakened**

"Starfire?" Raven called, knocking on the door. "Robin told me to come and check on you." Truthfully, all three boys had told her to check on Starfire. None of them had seen her for hours. The last time they had seen her was when she walked pointedly into the kitchen to rifle through the fridge, only to walk back out a moment later without talking.

Raven heard a loud sigh, and then Starfire opened the door, pulling her in to the room.

"Starfire, I need to talk to you about Gabriel."

Starfire's head jerked up to meet Raven's gaze. "I need to speak with you about him, also. May I speak first?"

Raven nodded and gestured for her to begin.

"He… I…" Starfire's lips pursed, her eyes shifting to the floor. "Raven, I fear… I…"

"Sit down," she ordered, pulling her to the bed where they both willingly sat. "Did he do anything to you?"

"N-no… well, I am not sure. Raven," she began, and took a deep breath. "I do not know how to present my troubles."

"Were you with him for a long time?"

"Yes… I believe so."

"And he took you from the Tower?"

"Yes—no!"

Raven raised a brow.

"He… he spoke with me before he took me. And he"—she blushed—"he _kissed_ me, as well."

Raven smirked. "Well, yeah, I assumed he would, if given the chance. I mean, he _was_ in your shower not too—"

"No, no!" She shook her head fiercely. "He did not… _repeat_ his previous acts. He seemed to be polite, and he came just after I had argued with Robin, and…" She wrapped her arms around herself, moving them slowly as she tried to find a word to describe the feeling. "And I believe I enjoyed his company… more than Robin's." She winced and dropped her hands when Raven narrowed her eyes, but continued anyway. "And he apologized for what he had done… and urged me to speak with you."

Raven let out a muffled hum, frowning. "He told me to talk to _you_… but continue. Why did you want to be brought back here?"

"Last night, I was with him—"

"With him?" she interrupted, startled. "Wait—with him, or _with_ him?"

"To be honest," Starfire murmured, looking guilty. "I do not know. I was eating dinner… The drink smelled of fruit—but it seemed to be alcoholic, and I cannot remember any more than fragments of what happened after the meal, and…" She held her breath for a moment and then slowly let it out. "And this morning, I woke in his bedroom—or so I believe—and without clothing."

Raven didn't answer. A variety of thoughts were whirring her head, the simplest of them coming out first. "Bad," she muttered. "This is bad… And you're sure you can't remember anything else?"

"I cannot." Her eyes brimmed with tears—she stood and began pacing, trying to wipe her eyes.

"Star, I don't really know—don't cry!—what to say. What did Gabriel say this morning?"

"Very little. Only that he did not know why I did not wish him to come into the room."

"He wasn't there?" Raven wondered, a bit of hope in her voice.

"I am… not sure. I woke late."

Raven nodded again but didn't answer.

After a moment of complete silence, Starfire sighed and spoke again. "But… what should I do?"

Raven had no idea what to tell her. She felt clichéd as she said, "Well, how do you feel about _him_?"

"I…" Instantly, another flood of tears began. "When he is around, I feel as if he were Robin, only now that Robin has become against me, I believe Gabriel may be more than Robin." She stopped, realizing it sounded ridiculous. "I feel that it is wrong to… to like someone who has betrayed me, in a sense, but I become uneasy when he is not with me. When he is, I am uneasy as well, but differently—I cannot seem to behave correctly. My balance becomes terrible and my mind cannot focus. I am… _afraid_ of that emotion, and I—"

Starfire stopped in mid-sentence and mid-step, completely still.

"Starfire?"

She didn't answer.

"_Starfire_?" Raven was on her feet, reaching towards her, sensing that something was wrong. But when she touched the violet sweater Starfire was wearing, she jerked back, staring in horror. Instead of soft fabric, it felt like stone.

"Starfire!" She stumbled forward again, trailing two fingers down Starfire's face, recoiling again at the touch of its cool, marble-like texture.

Raven spun on her heel, racing towards the door, trying to press the unlock code on the panel. But the touchpad didn't make the usual clicking noise and the doors didn't slide open. It seemed as if the electronics were also frozen, forcing her to pry the doors open.

Beast Boy still in the hallway just outside the main room, but when Raven ran to get him, his eyes were glazed over and he seemed to be in the middle of a stride, just like Starfire.

Something shook the floor and walls, a vibration of sorts. Another came, and then another, repeating in waves. Raven stood frozen, looking at the ceiling. The pulsing energy was coming from the roof.

She realized how silent it was as she ran up through the main stairwell of the Tower. There wasn't a sound to be heard besides the low hum of the beating rhythm. It was just like when she had frozen time, only she somehow knew that it wasn't just local—the entire world was frozen. Fear coursed through her as she clambered up the last flight of stairs, not sure if she wanted to see what was above her. She felt alone as she forced the door and stepped onto the cement of the roof.

The humming stopped, and the world was silent. She gasped, racing over to the edge of the roof to stare down at the lights of Jump City. Everything was frozen—cars, birds, clouds.

"Enjoying the view?"

Raven screamed and whirled towards the voice. And then she stared in disbelief, no longer sure that she wasn't dreaming.

The man stood on the opposite edge of the Tower, the perfect picture of godliness. Long, golden hair hung immaculately straight, reaching down to his chest, where the layers of white robe hung slightly apart to expose his pale skin. The fabric converged together at his stomach and then fell in a pile of folds at his feet. As if the robe and statuesque facial features weren't enough, two feathered wings stretched wide, rooted on his half-exposed shoulder blades.

"Isn't it rude to stare?" he chuckled, stepping down onto the level cement, his wings flaring slightly.

Raven couldn't find the strength to close her mouth, let alone have something coherent come out of it.

He tilted his head as he walked closer, smoothly and gracefully. The corner of his lips twitched up into a teasing smile. "You must be Raven."

"Y-yeah…"

"Do you know who I am?"

"You… aren't Jason," she mumbled, turning to face him as he walked in a circle around her.

"Very good. Who am I, then?"

"Raphael?" she guessed, shaking her head. "But I thought you were…"

"You thought I was Jason? Au contraire, Raven. I am merely a _part_ of him. But I," he murmured, stepping within a foot of her, "am the part who doesn't enjoy watching my reincarnation fall to pieces. And you know why he fell to pieces?"

She stared into his golden eyes, unable to look away as they darkened to a malicious, cloudy black.

"Because," Raphael laughed under his breath, "you, the stupid little demon girl, made him."

His hand wrapped itself around her neck, tightening, his fingernails skidding along the collar. He muttered a low oath and raised his other hand, clenching the metal and ripping the band off, nearly breaking her neck in the process. Without the collar in the way, he continued tightening his long fingers around her throat.

She gasped in air, clawing at his hand, attempting to peel it off her skin. But his skin was like her teammates'—like marble, although he was able to move and, unfortunately, do harm.

The metal vents a few feet from them began to crumple as her increasing powers bent them, slowly wrecking everything on the rooftop. She felt a surge of power as it fully returned and then felt herself hit the concrete.

He had dropped her.

Panting and grabbing her throat, she rose to her feet, watching as Raphael growled in frustration and then reached toward her again, his hands on her shirt rather than her skin, yanking her closer. His mouth was on her neck, his teeth on her skin, sharpening to become vicious points. Her knees gave out when he dug his fangs into her skin. She reached up, clawing at him desperately as she felt warm blood trickle down to her collarbone.

Panicked, she closed her eyes and concentrated, calling upon her dark energy and willing it through her blood and into her neck. In an instant she was sprawled on the cement again, swaying dangerously, Raphael staggering away from her and shouting phrases she couldn't recognize.

And then he was holding her up by the neck, her feet hanging limply above the ground. She couldn't focus well, but she managed to glimpse the twisted mess of blood and fangs that had once been his seraphic lips and shuddered.

"Demonic little girl," he snarled, holding her face close to his. "I don't care how powerful you are. You tried to weaken me, so I will destroy you."

She opened her eyes, clenching her fists. "Give Jason back!"

His black eyes widened, bewildered, and his fingers tightened around her throat as he flung her aside.

She landed on the concrete once more, gasping for air and trying to cover the bleeding punctures in her skin, feeling faint from the loss of blood.

The noise of traffic, birds, and the crashing waves thundered back into her mind, startling her. The chilly November breeze picked up once again—time had restarted.

Her eyes found Raphael and watched as he stiffened, his white wings dissolving into a mess of drifting feathers, his hair shortening and becoming darker. His expression was pained at first, and then serene as he reverted back into the form of Jason.

As soon as the entire change was complete, Jason exhaled slowly, his eyes fluttering open. It took a moment for him to focus, and she could see a twitch of confusion in his face as he saw the white feathers around him. But then his gaze lifted to her. A flood of emotions crossed his face in the instant it took him to realize what Raphael had done.

"No," came his strained whisper. He was next to her immediately, his hands on either side of her face, gently pushing her chin up to look at her neck. "No…" he repeated, taking her hand off the wound. "This is so wrong," he moaned, ripping his shirt off without bothering with the buttons. He dabbed at her skin, recoiling when she weakly flinched away. "Raven?" He tapped her cheek, trying to keep her conscious. "Raven?"

She opened her eyes slightly. "Mmh," she mumbled in response.

"Raven, can you hear me?" He pressed the shirt against her throat, lifting her lifeless hand to it. "Can you hold that?"

"Mmh," she hummed again, her fingers closing around the bundle of cloth.

"Stay just like that," he ordered. Taking her slight nod as an 'okay,' he slipped his gloves off and put one hand behind her head to steady her. Hesitantly, he touched the side of her face with the other, letting out a slow hiss from behind gritted teeth when a spike of pain shot into his hand. Another came, worse than the original one, but he just closed his eyes and focused.


	23. Angel’s Death

_This chapter is totally dedicated to Tiff, who left the review that made me change my mind about discontinuing this fic. So thank her, 'cause I otherwise wouldn't finish this thing. (Little things make big things happen, people, never forget that.) And now, the chapter:_

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Angel's Death**

Violet eyes blinked open to meet the light of the dim room. Raven stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure out why her bedroom was breezy and had strange swirling patterns on the ceiling.

Then it all rushed back to her—Starfire, Raphael, the blood running down her neck, Jason's pained—

_Jason!_

She sat up too quickly and fell back onto the pillows with an anguished moan, one hand on her stomach while the other massaged her forehead. Once the room stopped spinning, she lifted her head and then slowly sat up, letting out a slow breath when she managed to balance herself.

The room was shockingly familiar, but she couldn't figure out why until her eyes grazed the dark gardens outside, beyond the pillars that lined the room. It was the room from Jason's memory—the one with the questioning, foreign voice. The bed was in the middle of the room, surrounded by flickering torches.

"Are you alright?" asked a cautious voice.

Raven turned her head to face the speaker and felt lightheaded again, letting herself be still a moment before opening her eyes again.

The person before her was startlingly beautiful. She assumed it was a man because of its voice, but while he stood looking at her in silence, she wasn't so sure. He had fiery red hair hanging perfectly straight to his shoulders, gleaming in the torchlight. His eyes, a shade duller than his hair, would've been frightening if his lips weren't pursed in a debating frown.

"Are you?" he asked again.

She nodded.

"Please, say it aloud. Yes or no."

It occurred to her that his eyes weren't on her face, but rather a foot to the side of her shoulder. He couldn't see her nodding—he couldn't see her at _all_. "Yes," she gasped. "Sorry."

"That's fine. Can you stand?"

"I think so," she guessed, but it took her a minute to actually get on her feet. She felt nauseous as she followed the man out of the room and into the garden.

"Where are we?" she asked after they crossed a bridge directly over a waterfall. She couldn't see the waterfall—the sun was almost finished sinking down into the horizon—but she heard the crashing water far below.

"Take a guess," the man directed.

Raven paused, thought, and then choked on her words. "Wait—we're in—"

"Welcome to the Upper Realm," he chuckled. "Known to you as Heaven."

She realized, with a slight smirk, that her uneasy stomach was because she was from the opposite end of the spectrum—the Lower Realm, where the demons lived, and the human-proclaimed Hell. It was natural for the conflicting energies to act against each other at first.

"Let us continue," he directed, leading her down a stairway of mossy rocks. "Be careful, they're slippery."

Raven took her time down the long, curving stairs, and it gave her time to think—about how her wounds were gone, where Jason had gone, and if Jason and Raphael weren't actually one being, but actually incompatible personalities that somehow were fused into one body. But that made her head hurt, and it gave her a grotesque mental image, so she soon focused on the man ahead of her.

"Who are you?" she asked after a few minutes of watching his smooth descent. He was blind, yes, but he obviously had some sort of sense—or just a very good memory—that let him traverse the rough area with ease. They were almost at the bottom, she realized as he stopped to wait at the bottom.

"My name is—"

"King?"

"Yes, milady?" he called back, no longer paying any attention to Raven. A child raced out of a pavilion hidden in the neighboring forest and rushing into the man's arms, giggling happily as he kneeled to embrace her.

"King, I think I…" The girl paused, pushing away from the man, perplexed. She took a step toward Raven, who had just stepped onto level ground. "Who are you?" she asked tersely.

Raven was surprised not only at the girl's tone, but also at the subtle difference in her posture. It made her more regal, more elegant. "I'm—"

"Nevermind her, milady," the man interrupted, a flicker of worry across his face. "What were you saying?"

"No, no. Who is she?" The girl let out a triumphant laugh of realization. "Oh, is she the one?"

"Yes…"

Raven narrowed her eyes, really beginning to wonder who the girl even _was_.

"Ah, they're all such idiots," the girl said, waving a hand to dismiss the matter. "He's in there," she smirked, pointing to a spiraling stone tower that rose above the tree line. "Now, King…"

Raven stood still, watching the girl for a moment before starting towards the tower. The forest, she discovered, was thick, although there was a dirt path that soon turned into a stone path, and then a green courtyard lit with hanging lanterns, all suspended from hooks on tree branches.

The tower itself wasn't a tower, but just a single corner of the immense castle that spread before her, continuing on even after the trees grew more abundant.

She felt like she was trespassing as she walked up to the iron gates, which parted before she reached them and closed behind her when she had gone through. When she reached the actual archway of the castle—no door, oddly enough—it occurred to her that she didn't even know why she had come. Was the 'he' the girl mentioned Jason? She tried to think of another 'he' and froze, standing rooted to the ground just outside the marble archway.

"H-He," she stammered. She could hear her heart pounding. "He…" _God is 'He.'_

"Jason's up there."

Raven whirled, recognizing the doll-like girl in front of her.

"Not God. So go, why don't you?"

Raven opened her mouth to respond when the girl faded into a mist. She blinked, shook her head, and then started up the grand staircase that was in the middle of the immense hall.

The entire place was eerily quiet until a soft tune, hummed, reached her. She looked up and spotting a balcony a level up, hanging over the forest. _Jason?_ she guessed.

The hallways were a labyrinth, Raven realized with a smirk as she followed the sound of the hum after another flight of stairs. They would've been impossible to navigate without the sound of the low tune.

She felt a breeze and inhaled deeply, relaxing, although when she stepped around the corner the balcony lay out before her, unpleasantly abrupt.

Jason was standing on the railing of the balcony—at least, she thought it was Jason—in a black robe that billowed in the slight wind. He wasn't humming, she noticed, but singing. There were words to the song. It wasn't in English, but it was smooth, and sad.

But what caught her eye were the two brilliantly white wings, twitching slightly from where they were on his shoulder blades. They seemed to flex and then expand as the notes and rhythm of the song changed and became slower, more fluid, until the final low note echoed poignantly into the silence of the forest.

It was a moment before Raven found her voice. "J-Jason?"

He tensed, his wings bending closer to his back as if to make them smaller. He turned towards her, smiling with a mix of sorrow and guilt in his eyes. "Hey." He stepped onto the floor of the balcony, hesitating when she took a step back. "What's…?"

She wasn't listening to him. Her eyes were watching the wings on his back. The way they moved was humanlike, in that they reacted to whatever the person did, much like an arm or a leg. But the way that they flared when Jason had stepped off the railing brought back the image of Raphael, his mouth a growling mess of bloody fangs. She shuddered and took another step back, and then noticed Jason watching her closely, the same sad look in his eye.

"What?"

He crossed his arms, looked away from her, and shrugged half-heartedly. "Have you noticed that the wounds he—I—gave you are healed?"

"Yes—that was you, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "But that doesn't matter. These _things_"—his wings twitched again, pointing themselves out—"take power to conceal, and I used the majority of it for healing you. So no matter how much you or I hate them, they're going to be visible until I regain my—"

"Jason, I don't hate them," she said quickly.

He smirked, cocking a brow. "Right. That's why you can't take your eyes off them."

She realized she was still staring at the wings and snapped her gaze to his face. "Sor—"

"Don't apologize," he said, his tone rough. He turned towards the edge of the balcony again and leaned against the marble railing. His wings stayed folded securely against his back, but she didn't want to get closer to them.

"I'm the one who should apologize," Jason continued in a tight, controlled voice. "For Raphael. He isn't…" She saw his shoulders drop and heard his sigh. "He's the dirty one of the four, to put it simply. There an infection—Angel's Death, we call it—that Uriel got first from a human woman, and then he passed it onto his half-angel daughter, Charity." He paused, taking a slow breath. "But Raphael fell in love with Charity and eventually slept with her, which then gave _him_ the virus. He died from it, yes, but was reincarnated, since he was the archangel of longevity. But due to a deliberate fluke in the Phoenix Process, the division of powers didn't go to my parents, as they should have. The powers went to my mother… and to Cameron. But just like Angel's Death, the powers could only be returned to me via blood."

Raven realized that she was slowly making her way toward him, from the side, listening and watching intently. She stopped moving for an instant in surprise and waited until Jason started speaking again to inch her way closer.

"Raphael, powers or not, is always inside of the reincarnations. I don't know if that's to safeguard him, or to let him get the powers back, but either way it made me an extremely dangerous person. God got rid of my father, as predicted, and then Raphael… he just did away with her. My mother. I blacked out for an hour or so and when I woke, I found her in the bathtub, already dead… in bloody water. It was ruthless. But then…"

Raven was within of foot of him now, and he realized it. But he just dropped his head, leaning his elbows on the railing. He shook his head and pushed himself upright and away from the balcony, putting a few steps between them.

"And then do you know what he did? What _I_ did?" He spun to face her, his eyes widening into an almost threatening expression. "I attacked Cameron. My own little brother. It was disgusting and low, but I did it." He materialized in front of her, pushing her chin to the side and lowering his face into her neck. "Just like Raphael did to you, I took Cameron's blood. I was _nine_. Cameron was _seven_." She could feel the tremor of his breath on her neck and closed her eyes, thinking it inappropriate to interrupt. "And he's only alive because Charity didn't want someone so young to die because of her. But can you imagine, Raven?" She felt him move away from her, but she didn't open her eyes. "Can you imagine a little boy, his throat ripped open, his neck clearly broken, and all because his brother was 'following destiny'? And between the time he was rescued and the time he met you, I'd only seen him three times, only vaguely knowing who he had become. I can't live with the thought that I might've stopped his entire existence all because of a stupid heavenly scheme. And now… he has Angel's Death, through blood."

Raven opened her eyes when he didn't go on. She jerked backwards slightly at the realized that he was a foot in front of her, looking down at her forlornly.

"I warned you that I was dangerous… and yet you stayed. I can't understand why. But it was a mistake, letting you get involved." He smiled slightly. "Not to say that I'm unhappy you're here. I just wish that I had put a stop to this earlier."

He was getting at something, and yet it frustrated Raven that he wouldn't just say it.

"If I had," he went on, "Robin wouldn't have taken you away, I wouldn't have been so angry, and Raphael wouldn't have taken over. And he wouldn't have tried to kill you." He pursed his lips, thinking, and then spoke again. "And by this point, you would be safe in your Tower. Not here and recovering from having a torn jugular vein… with Angel's Death now circulating in your own bloodstream. So really, I don't think you have any reason to apologize. I'm the one who does."

She blinked, her mind just registering what he had said.

"In the end, Cameron's always right. I can only kill people. I don't mean to, but I do. I never wanted to harm my family, and yet I eventually betrayed them. I didn't bring you into this with the intent of hurting you, and…" He smiled again, softly. "I don't know if I would've ever made that call to your Tower if I'd known it would end up like this."

"End up like what?" Raven looked at him curiously, her tone oddly light. "As far as I'm concerned, this all worked out perfectly."

"But—"

"If I die from this Angel's Death," she interrupted, holding up a hand, "it won't be that bad. I'm Trigon's daughter—I'm fairly certain I could fight my way out of Hell to be alive again. And even if I couldn't, my life doesn't matter that much. No one would notice."

"Your team would notice. And it goes without saying that I would notice."

"Until you get reincarnated… again. And then you'll forget about the pesky little demon girl and her team of teenage superheroes."

He shook his head. "Two things wrong with your theory. One, I won't die for a while now, with age suspension and all that. And two, I'll never forget you." He straightened suddenly, laughing. "That sounded very clichéd, didn't it?"

Raven nodded, distracted by the sudden flutter of his wings as he laughed. She stepped back again and then realized that Jason looked particularly exasperated. Shaking his head, he came even closer to her, snapping his wings to their full length. She jumped at the noise.

Jason took one of her hands with both of his and held it close to him, keeping her from backing away.

"The wings won't hurt you unless they're on Raphael's back. But it's me that's standing here, not him. Right?"

"Right…"

He took a step to the side, keeping her hand still, letting her fingertips graze the pristine feathers. Her posture instantly relaxed and she brought herself closer, running her fingers through the layers of feathers.

"Are you okay with them now?" He chuckled, watching her expression lightened tremendously. "They're just…"

His voice trailed off. She had turned her head up toward his, and neither had expected their faces to be in such close proximity. Even more unexpected was the awkward force that kept them there for a prolonged second, neither of them wanting to move closer or farther from the other.

"…wings," Jason finished, unsure where he was going with the statement. He straightened, looking away.

After a silent moment that seemed to last an eternity, he cleared his throat and turned to Raven. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Sure," she answered, her voice quivering slightly. She followed him into the castle again, but paused before going down the stairs. "Jason?"

He stopped where he was, giving her his full attention.

Her mind went blank, her face burned with a blush, and she completely forgot what she had wanted to say. "N-nevermind."

Jason smiled, laughed, and then extended a hand to her. "C'mon, then, and take my hand. You're a bit too flushed—do you feel dizzy? Maybe it's the abrupt switch in realms?"

She stumbled down the steps, gracious that his hand was there. "A little dizzy," she admitted, knowing full well that it had nothing to do with realms.


	24. Farewell

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Farewell**

Raven was halfway finished with the meal in front of her, and fully agitated at Jason's constant stare, when the aching, burning sensations began. Her grip tightened on the fork and her eyes locked on the plate, stiffening as a sharp line of pain made its way across her back. She sat perfectly still, waiting for it to pass, but it didn't. The pain faded and then flared, intensifying.

She let out a quick breath and then gulped back a gasp as the mere act of breathing made the pain stronger. She could feel it spreading, somehow, below her skin, as if cool, liquid fingers were running icy nails down her spine and then branching out almost strategically.

Slowly, she set down her fork, attempting to keep her face natural. "I'm done," she pointed out, speaking far too distinctly to be normal. She just wanted to get off the balcony, away from the spiking breeze that had been, until then, perfectly gentle.

"You are?" Jason asked, looking down at the plate. "Hm, I suppose you are." He rose to his feet, gesturing for the archway that led inside.

Without being told, Raven clambered after him, holding a hand to her mouth in a sudden wave of lightheadedness. She wished she had her cloak, or at least a hood, so she could hide her face and be free to breathe properly and let her eyes water, instead of biting back the agonized expression.

"Are you okay?" Jason had gotten in front of her, a hand reaching out to her face.

Raven jerked back, dropping her hand. "I'm fine," she nodded, forcing a pleasant smile.

He raised a brow, bending slightly to her eye level, resting his palm on her forehead. He blinked, eyes wide in confusion. "Are you always so… overheated?"

She opened her mouth to give some excuse for her abnormally hot forehead, but was interrupted when a paralyzing, cold knife tore across her shoulders. An immense pain raked up her back, and hammered her head, spreading quickly, burning like fire. She couldn't breathe. Even gulping down oxygen didn't seem to help. Her head ached, her eyes creating flashing designs that made her feel even worse.

Another pain, worse than before, ripped up through her back. Someone spoke again—was it Jason?—and then she fell back, fading into whiteness.

—————

The first thing she was aware of was the warmth. It was comfortable, the warmth, and it pressed against her tightly, but not suffocating. And then the warmth moved, shifting—it occurred to her that it was a person. Her forehead was on the person's shoulders, their arms around her back, holding her body protectively close to theirs. But though she was leaning forward, her back felt heavy. Something heavy was on her, pulling her the other way.

"Jason?" she mumbled, motionless.

She felt him tense in surprise and then relax again, his shoulders lowering when he let out a relieved sigh. "You're awake, thank god. You were so still a few minutes ago, it seemed like you weren't breathing. Are you okay?"

"Jason?"

"What?" His tone was strained again.

"Shut up—my head hurts."

He chuckled softly; she didn't hear it, but rather felt the vibrations from his chest. "I figured it does. How's the rest of you?"

"I can't move."

"Are you sure?" He sounded panicked.

"I _can_ move," she clarified, raising her hand weakly, letting it fall back onto her leg after a moment. "But I'm tired… what happened?"

"Well… for some reason, Angel's Death reacted differently to you than it has anyone else—by all reasoning, you should be dead. But…"

"But?"

"But… well, I think it has to do with your father being Trigon, or something…"

"What does?" She felt one of his hands leave her back, and then something tickled her cheek. "Stop it…"

"Guess what that is," he directed gently.

"A feather?" She had a bad feeling about that.

"Yes. It's a black feather."

"Black? But yours are—"

"It's… not mine, Raven."

"But whose…" Her heart seemed to stop. The pain in her back made sense now—black feathers that weren't Jason's, Trigon, the weight pulling her back. She had—"Wings," she croaked.

"Yes, wings," he sighed.

"I… I can't…" Her throat tightened painfully as unneeded tears began to form. She opened her eyes, lifting her head to meet Jason's worried gaze. "I _can't_ have wings. I'm a _demon_! I almost wrecked the world—how can I—" Her voice dropped off, and she jolted back slightly. "Your eyes are red, Jason; were you crying?"

He shook his head, forcing a slight smile. But he didn't say no.

"What happened?" she prodded.

"Nothing, really," he shrugged.

"That's a lie."

He smiled again, tightly, and nodded with another shrug. "Yeah," he sighed. "I know it is."

"What's going on, then?" The tears in her eyes finally fell, running in slow streaks down her cheeks.

"Don't cry—I haven't told you yet!" he laughed, a bit more realistically.

"It doesn't matter," she mumbled angrily. "It's going to be bad news. I know that already."

"Not exactly… those wings will be gone, Gabriel won't be after Starfire anymore, and life will return to normal for you."

"For me?'" she echoed. "And what will happen to you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, you know me… I'm Jason. I can get shot and survive…"

"We aren't dealing with guns this time, are we?" she guessed—it wasn't a question. When Jason didn't answer, she closer her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder again. "So that's it? You're just going to save me at your own expense?" Again, he didn't answer.

She looked up again after a few moments of silence, yanking herself away from him and trying to stand. A twinge of agony went through her back, but she ignored it and caught her balance, heading for the door. She didn't know where she was, but she needed to get out.

"Raven?" Jason was on his feet and following closely behind her. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to go ask someone to kill me."

"What?" He grabbed her wrist, pulling her back towards him. "You can't!"

"I can, and I will, Jason. If you're only doing… _whatever_ you're doing for me, then it'll just be easier to—"

"I can't let you do that!" he laughed in exasperation. "That would be worse!"

"Worse than what? _Your_ death—or whatever your scheme is?" She twisted out of his grip. "And you think I can let you do that?"

"No—maybe—despite what you can or cannot let me do, I have to—"

"That's no different from my reasoning, Jason!" she interrupted, yelling. He winced back, wearing the same, grieving frown.

"Yes, it _is_ different," he said slowly. "It's very different."

"How?"

"For one, you're human."

"I am _not_!"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't! You're an angel, I'm a demon—how are those so different?"

"Secondly," he continued, "it will be in the Upper Realm. You belong to the Lower Realm—it would make a difference."

"No, it wouldn't!"

"And thirdly…" He lowered his eyes, thinking.

"Thirdly?" she pressed.

"Thirdly," he said again, cautiously, "I don't think you know how hard it would be for me to just watch you die."

She took a step forward. "What do you mean?"

"I couldn't just be passive while you give up on life, especially knowing it was for my sake."

"Exactly my point! I couldn't do that either, if you were the one dying!"

"No, it's not the same…"

"Yes, it is!" She stormed closer to him, eyes narrowed. "What, you think I don't _care_?"

"I don't think you care as much," he corrected.

"As who? You?"

She was being venomously sarcastic, but he nodded. "You know how Cameron says I can only kill people?"

"So?"

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, that does hand in hand with that other saying—you only hurt the ones you love. And look," he touched her wounded cheek softly, "you're hurt."

"I am not hurt, Jason—I stayed because I wanted to stay! You had nothing to do with it!"

"Yes, you stayed by your own choice. But Raven, everyone that caused you harm was associated with me!"

"So?"

"So—" He stopped in mid-sentence, his head turning to the side, eyes narrowing in a sudden flare of rage.

"Jason?"

He glanced at her and then back at the door, taking a few steps towards it. And then it flew open, nearly hitting him. "Gabriel," he growled.

"Starfire!" Raven choked. Gabriel was standing in the doorway, holding the limp Tamaranean in his arms. Her head was slumped forward onto his chest. "What happened to her?" she yelled, shoving past Jason. "What did you do?"

Gabriel's eyes grew wide as he took in the black wings, but his eyes snapped to Raven's face when she reached for Starfire. "Careful," he said, slowly lowering her to the ground. "She's unconscious—apparently, something about switching realms does something to her."

Raven knelt next to her, looking down at her pained expression. Something occurred to her. "You slept with her!" she accused, rising to her feet and pointing at Gabriel.

"You did what?" Jason growled.

Gabriel just chuckled. "No, I didn't… although that makes sense. The way she acted before…"

"Then how did she end up in your bed—without any clothes on?"

"She got dizzy from the wine," he said calmly. "I helped her to the closest room—mine."

"And the clothes?"

"She had a fever."

"So you took off her clothes?"

Gabriel held up a hand. "You misunderstand me. She had a fever, so I called on a few girls to take care of her. They made me leave the room—I had no idea that they actually undressed her, and she woke up as she did. I only found out later, when Charity asked me who she was."

"So you didn't do anything?" Raven asked, still reproachful.

"Nothing at all." He turned to Jason. "I hear you've made a deal with Her. Isn't that a bit risky?" He gestured to Raven. "Did you tell her?"

"Tell me what?"

"Not exactly," Jason said.

"Do you plan to?"

Jason sighed. "I don't know."

"Tell me what?" Raven repeated.

"It's nothing," Jason said, still looking at Gabriel. "Can you take Starfire to a bedroom and then meet me in Her chambers?"

"Who is 'Her'?"

"Sure," Gabriel nodded, bending to lift Starfire again. He rose and turned carefully, carrying her out the door.

"What's going on?" Raven asked angrily. "You have to tell me sometime."

"Raphael, Raphael, Raphael!" a familiar, childish voice called. The door opened again and the small, golden-blonde girl from before danced through it, trailed by the man with red hair and eyes—King, his name was. "Are you ready yet?"

"You're looking forward to this, milady—it's rude."

The girl giggled and looked up at Raven. "Hm," she muttered, directing the next comment to Jason. "I told you she would look nice with wings."

"Who are—" Raven began to ask, but Jason stepped in front of her, holding up a hand.

"Everyone looks good with wings," he snapped. "It doesn't mean they should have them."

"And that's why we made our little agreement, isn't it?" She smirked cruelly—it was strange for such a small girl to wear such an expression. "But, Raven," the girl said, turning to her. "I need something from you, as well. It's just a little thing."

"No," Jason interjected. "You don't need anything from her."

"That may be true," the girl laughed, "but she _does_ need something from me. She just doesn't know it yet."

"Who _are_ you?" Raven asked, ignoring Jason's glaring look. "And what agreement are you talking about? Why do I need something from you?"

"I think you of all people should know who I am," the girl grimaced, narrowing her eyes. "After all, it was your father that trapped me in this childish form."

Raven could remember something about that story—something Arella told her. Trigon, in a war between realms, had trapped a heavenly figure in the body of a young girl to keep her from accessing her full power. But the story said that his trick hadn't worked for long—that the girl changed back into a woman after only four days. The woman—Celeste. The daughter of two celestial beings.

"You're Celeste," she murmured. "But what…" And then she remembered the rest of the story—the woman, having returned to her more powerful form, trapped Trigon and became Earth's protector and the highest Daughter in the universe. Celeste… also known as God.

"Do you get it now?" Celeste asked harshly, staring up at Raven.

"Agreement…" Raven mumbled, looking at Jason. "With her? You're going… you're going to destroy Angel's Death, aren't you?"

He kept quiet, lowering his eyes.

"And that's somehow going to kill you, right?"

"Not only that," Celeste pointed out, oddly excited. "But Raphael's going to die to refresh his systems—so he'll be recreated with _no memories_ of _anything_ that's happened since he got the virus! Isn't that _great_?"

"No… no!" Raven gaped at Jason, moving in front of him. "That's true? Is it?"

"Oh, it's very true," King replied for him, his tone emotionless.

"Jason—you're going to forget?"

"Yes," he said hoarsely, refusing to meet her eyes.

"And… and you're still going to do it? To volunteer yourself for death?"

"Yes."

"And this is all just so my team and I can go back to our normal lives?"

"Yes."

She stared at him, wishing he would look at her. But he didn't move. "You're heartless, then," she said, her tone much stronger than she felt. Her mind made up, she turned to Celeste. "What do you want from me?"

"No," Jason said, snapping his head up finally. "You can't make a deal with her!"

"Shut up, Jason," Raven spat, and then looked at the girl. "Anything you want."

"No!"

"I want you to use your powers—just a little. I think that this will work on its own, without your cooperation, but I need someone to prepare the spell."

"To do what?" Raven asked, despite Jason's train of _no_'s behind her.

"To make me myself again. I don't want to be stuck like this forever. Since I'm doing something for you—well, indirectly for you—I think you could do something for me. Just make the spell, and Trigon's power should automatically release its grip on me. I won't be a child anymore."

Raven nodded. "I'll do it."

"No!"

"The book," Celeste said, gesturing towards King. He held out the dark book in his arms—it had blended with his cloak—and Raven took it, flipping through it.

"This is blank," Raven muttered. Something suddenly cut her arm—a trickle of blood dripped onto the pages. Jason let out a startled yelp of protest.

"It needs something to unlock it—that's all," Celeste murmured, sheathing her jeweled knife. "Watch."

Raven hung her arm over the pages, waiting. Suddenly, the blood on the pages sunk through, disappearing for a moment before elegant crimson script rose into view.

"Ah, it worked," Celeste muttered. "You'll find everything you need in the room you're going to." She turned, took King's hand, and skipped through the door.

"Raven—"

"Jason, be quiet for once," she snarled. "It's my decision."

"It's a stupid decision."

"And you think getting yourself killed is smart?" she shouted, slamming the book shut. "You think I'm happy with what you're doing? Dammit, Jason, how can just think that I'll forget you once you forget me?" A memory came to mind—"You said you'd never forget me. Remember?"

"I also said I wouldn't get reincarnated soon," he argued. "Things change."

"Apparently!" Whirling, she stormed out the door. She got a few steps down the hall before Jason appeared in front of her, not even allowing her to speak before leaning in to kiss her.

After a moment, she pulled away, opening her eyes. "You're so cruel," she whispered, her vision blurring from tears. "Are you trying to make me feel worse?" She put her hands on his cheeks, pressing her lips against his again. "Because it's working," she sniffed, an inch from his mouth. And then she took a calculated step back, wiped her eyes, and walked past him. "Goodbye, Jason."


	25. Reflecting Echo

So, I have to thank a certain someone for kicking me into gear with this chapter. (Without that kick, this probably wouldn't be posted until sometime in mid-May.)

This chapter is "short," and I apologize for that. (Shockingly, this story is coming to an end.) It's kind of necessary to include it, but the need isn't apparent to anyone but me… (sighs)

Ah, well. Chapter 25:

————————

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Reflecting Echo**

Raven sat, motionless, on the windowsill, one hand pressed against the glass. Celeste had visited her in the room she had first gone to and, as soon as Raven completed the spell, directed her to another room. Gabriel had come next, to explain when she would leave. She was to leave _'between Raphael's... disappearance... and his return,'_ as he had so gingerly put it. Someone would notify her when it was time to leave; in the meantime, she was to stay in the room with the window.

Raven hadn't thought it could rain in Heaven. But apparently, she was wrong—the steady downpour kept the room dim, the lightning crackling outside, instantaneous thunder shaking the windowpane. She thought it was ironic—she wouldn't allow herself to cry, and so the sky cried for her. A ridiculous notion, but she couldn't bring herself to think reasonably.

She could hear her shallow breaths rattle through her. Her eyes hurt from holding back tears and her head hurt from holding back her thoughts, emotions, and most of all, her powers.

There was nothing to break in the room, save for the bed and the mirrors that lined the walls. That was another reason she couldn't turn away from the window—two walls, the ceiling, and floor were all covered in continuous mirrors. She couldn't face herself. _No,_ she mentally chastised. It wasn't her reflection she couldn't look at. It was the wings. They were huge, black, bulky, and hideous. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

Something in her chest ached. She felt hollow; incomplete. It hurt, no matter how she sat, no matter how empty her mind was.

She choked in a short breath, shoving away from the window, looking down at the floor. She froze for a moment, and then looked to the mirror on the wall.

Raven stared into the mirror, barely able to recognize what stared back at her. Her eyes were red, despite the fact that she hadn't let out any tears. Her expression, though, was something she'd seen before, but not on herself. It reminded her of someone else—of Starfire.

_So this is how she feels when Robin does something stupid,_ she thought, shaking her head, watching her image do the same.

She went to the bed, lying on her stomach, clutching the pillow. The darkness of unconscious didn't come quickly, like she wanted it to; like she _needed_ it to. In that darkness, she could forget about Jason.

_Raphael_, she corrected.

And in that darkness, she could forget why he was no longer Jason—she could forget about all of it and just be oblivious to how she felt. But instead she lay there, eventually curling up under the heavy quilt, shivering regardless to the warmth of the bed.

So he would be gone. It wasn't the worst thing that could happen. She could've died. Her teammates could've died. Yes, it could've been much worse.

Her vision blurred—she sat up, wiping her eyes, indignant. Crying wouldn't change anything. Nothing would change what was going to happen to Jason—to _Raphael_.

Wrapping her arms around herself, her wings startled her by doing the same. Cloaked in the soft, feathery blackness, she began to shake again, her throat tightening. Her wings flew apart when her hands rose to her neck. She couldn't breathe—air wasn't going through.

Convulsively, she swallowed, trying to gulp down oxygen. It didn't come. Stumbling from the bed, she sprang towards the door but fell and ended up face-to-face with herself. Pushing herself off the floor, she realized she couldn't see, either. She could only see white, with the single image of her own terrorized expression burned into her sight.

Extending her hands, she groped for the door, trying to yell, trying to do something. But she knew no one was there. She knew the door had disappeared. She was confined to the room with the mirrors that she couldn't see, with the air that she couldn't breathe, with the tears that she couldn't shed.

But someone was at her side, holding her up, repeating her name. She couldn't remember falling, but was suddenly on the floor, her knees stinging, her body resting in someone's firm hold. But she was still being smothered by something—someone, maybe—and her eyes were open but unseeing.

_Raven_, it said. _Raven. Raven. Raven. Raven._

A mantra, toneless, soundless, and yet beckoning. A sudden warmth flowed through her body and she vaguely wondered if she was about to die.

She broke the surface, no longer drowning. Starfire's face came into focus, worried, but she wasn't the one holding Raven. Gabriel was beside her.

"Get away!" Raven snarled, shoving dizzily away from them. Starfire looked hurt—it didn't matter—and Gabriel just held Raven tighter.

"Calm down," he said, but she didn't hear. With a feral glint in her eye, Raven clawed at him, pushing away, falling backward onto the ground again. "Raven, calm—"

"Get away!" she yelled hoarsely, getting to her feet only to fall back down. "Get out!" She felt the floor shake as her power surged to the surface, breaking free. "Leave!" she screamed, and the mirrored walls shattered.

"Starfire!" she heard Gabriel yell, and then they were both gone. The shards of glass were her only companion, and she couldn't control them.

She clambered to the bed, ducking under the covers. She didn't care if the hovering glass killed her. Nothing mattered. It was futile anyway, so why bother to fight death?

A hand was resting on her head for a few seconds before she realized it was there. Sitting up, untangling her wings from the sheets, she stared at the person. He was Jason, but something was different. His smile was oddly glaring, and his skin shimmered.

_Raven?_ he asked, inside her mind. _Are you alright?_ He extended a hand to her, fingers glittering.

She reached to take it and as soon as she touched it, yanked her hand back. Her eyes snapped to her hand, now dripping blood in front of her, to Jason. He changed then, into a human-shaped block of broken mirrors. She choked in a breath, watching the blood-covered shards crash to the floor.

_An... illusion?_ she wondered. _No. A hallucination?_

_Of Jas... of Raphael._

She sniffed, wiped the blood on the quilt, and curled up under the blankets. Tears stained her pillow in minutes, an unending supply of them pouring uncontrollably from her eyes. The ache got worse every time a teardrop slipped down her cheek.

Her sobs shook the bed, but she didn't care. She was in pain, both mentally of physically—she couldn't tell the difference—and if the earth was destroyed, it wouldn't matter.

Why did it hurt so much? Was it because she knew it would happen, just like it had with Malchior?

She groaned and wiped her cheek, smearing blood across it—and still not distinctly caring. Malchior wasn't like Jason, though. Jason was... he was different. He was an archangel, for one. And he was...

She sniffed, unable to think of a word. He was… better. He was a good guy... sort of.

She chuckled, wiping her eyes. It hurt less to remember than it did to forget.

But what was Jason, then, to her?

_'Well, that does hand in hand with that other saying—you only hurt the ones you love. And look; you're hurt.'_

Raven shot upright, gasping, suddenly happier. "Only hurt the ones you love," she repeated. "And look... you're hurt." She paused, thinking, staring down at her bloody hand. "Love?" She choked out the word, her vision blurring again. Hastily, she wiped the tears away and lay down again. What good would it do to think of second meanings _now_?

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Please feel free to review, or even send me a little message. (I like the little messages and I always reply… they're so much fun!)


	26. Sans

One more chapter... I think.

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Sans**

A knock on the door made Raven jump; she had been lying on the bed, not focusing on anything in particular, and lost track of time.

Another knock came, more persistent, and Raven sat up, wondering why they didn't just open the door. The knocking just got louder.

Without warning, the door flew off its hinges, slamming into the adjacent wall, and an unmistakable form stepped into the room. Golden eyes burned into her, fear seizing her in frozen terror.

"Found you," he mused silkily.

Her breath wouldn't come back fast enough to answer. She could only stare, mute, and pray to all the sympathetic deities that he was a mirage.

"What, surprised to see me?" He chuckled, a tight laugh in the back of his throat.

Raven shifted on the bed, ready to get to her feet. She knew it would be useless to run—he was an archangel, he was cruel, and he was standing just in front of the doorway. No matter how she figured, escape was futile.

Her eyes stayed fixed on his face, but his eyes were looking her over. The attention was unnerving—he seemed to be measuring her as a lion measures its prey before a hunt.

Without warning, he darted forward, grabbing her arm, yanking her against his chest. The room spun and they were back in Jason's apartment, obviously deserted.

Raphael dragged her along, twisting her arm painfully. His heavy footfalls seemed to echo in the empty space.

"In here," he growled, shoving her through the door. Her shoulder rammed against the sink as she fell, a cry of pain coming from her lips.

_The bathroom?_ she vaguely wondered. But before she had time to react, Raphael had turned on her again, marble hand on her throat. She clawed at his arm, gagging from the sudden pressure.

But then he released her. She fell unceremoniously into the bathtub, her head smacking loudly against the tiled walls. Her eyes closed, sharp stings of pain shooting through her neck.

But something wet was pouring onto her legs—icy water was pouring from the bath's faucet, thundering down in a waterfall of cold. Raven struggled to open her eyes and saw flashes of disorienting white, and then the horrifying image of Raphael, knife in hand, twisting the other knob on the tub with his long, pale fingers.

A recent memory came back to her—and it wasn't her memory, exactly. She remembered the little boy, standing next to the bathtub, fear in his deep, black eyes.

_Mommy!_

Raven stiffened, grabbing the edge of the tub, shoving herself upright. The ability to focus came back to her, her mind clearing, the pain dimming.

But Raphael raised his heavy boot and set it quickly on her stomach. She spluttered, thrown back against the ceramic, unable to breathe.

"You've realized, then," Raphael chuckled, pressing his heel into her abdomen. "Good," he grinned, and leaned over her. His weight shifted, landing most of it onto Raven.

"You'll die, just like that other worthless bitch."

"You killed—" she choked.

He shook his head, fingering the silver blade—it was the same one Jason had carried. "Not quite, my dear. I didn't kill her. I was too good for that. You want to guess who did?"

"Jas—"

"Nope, wrong again!" He laughed, adjusting the faucet again. "It was Cameron, the silly little idiot. All I had to do was take him over for a little while. Would you like to know the most amusing part? Cameron blames it on Jason, truly thinking that Jason did the deed, not knowing where the blame really lies. And Jason is fully aware of it, but doesn't have the strength to see his poor little idiot brother become sad."

"You just"—she tried shoving his foot off her stomach, unsuccessfully—"like messing with people!"

Raphael nodded, pursing his flawless lips in faked guilt. "I'll admit," he said, twitching into a smile, "playing God is… well… _fun_!"

His face dropped abruptly, becoming irate. "But unfortunately for you, the real God likes you. Which, of course, means that I don't. Which, of course, means that you're going to die. Now."

Raven jumped when his hand suddenly came down, pressing on the side of her face, turning her head and shoving it under the water. Her temple hit the bottom of the tub with an audible thud, and her mind blacked out for a moment, stunned. She inhaled water accidentally, choking, gagging on it.

The air was gone from her lungs too quickly, Raphael's strong hands keeping all attempts to escape at bay. She squirmed, scratching him, running her nails through his skin. Her powers surged up, too unfocused to do much more than lift some of the weight.

She heard his voice, a low, fierce growl, and suddenly his foot lifted, letting her up. Raven shot upright, stomach heaving water up her throat, gulping down the air that she could.

"Drowning is too damn slow," was all she heard, and then the heel of his boot sank into the side of her face, pushing her head into the cold water again until it pressed against the bottom. The weight lifted for a moment before pressing down on her cheek. Raven felt a slight movement and then total whiplash as Raphael shoved his foot forward; an audible snap came from her neck.

Eyes open and glassy, her stiff muscles fell slack; the water's surface smoothed, and no more ripples crossed it.

And then Raven's eyes flew open and she shoved herself upright, trying to cough out water that wasn't in her throat anymore. Her chest tightened and she gagged, gasping in breaths. She jumped when a hand touched her shoulder, only a slight pressure.

"Shh, relax," came the voice, a familiar one. "Cinderblock must've gotten in a good hit at you—you collapsed as soon as we got back, remem—"

"_What_?" She sounded fine, although her throat burned. The sudden realization that she was in the Tower's medical bay hit her, hard. Her eyes flickered to the black-haired boy next to her in stunned silence.

"Raven?" Robin's ungloved hand pressed against her forehead. "Are you sick?"

She jerked away, eyes wide and searching the room. "What day is it?"

"November third," he answered, voice slow and even. "The same day it was when you fainted… Are you sure you're okay?"

"November third?" Raven turned to look at the clock. "November third…" _What happened on November third? That was the night Cinderblock attacked… Robin spent the entire night on the computer, because Red X had…_

She sucked in an involuntary gasp. "_Starfire_!"

She shoved off the bed, nearly knocking Robin over in the process of getting to the door. She ran, stumbling, two floors up, slamming her fist into Starfire's bedroom door.

"Starfire! Sta—"

"Coming!" a cheery voice giggled. The door cracked open, a green eye appearing in the slit, and then it opened fully to reveal a towel-clad Tamaranean, hair dripping wet. "Oh, Raven, are you all right? You merely collapsed onto the floor… I would have watched over you but Robin insisted that I 'clean up' first, and so I obeyed his orders. I just removed myself from the shower, so if you allow me to change, I will… Raven?"

Starfire jerked back reflexively when Raven stepped forward, crushing her in a tight embrace.

"Raven!"

The girl pulled away from Starfire as Robin trotted towards her, the tips of his ears turning pink when he saw the towel.

"Are you feeling ill, Raven?" Starfire wondered, tilting her head to one side.

"You don't know who Gabriel is, do you?"

Her brow crinkled slightly. "No… why…?"

"Brown hair? Hazel eyes?"

"What're you talking about?" Robin asked, touching her arm. "Come on, I think you need food, or tea, or… something…"

"Yes, I believe so," Starfire agreed. "Who is this Gabriel? I know of only one Gabriel, and he is a religious figure in your earthly customs… yes?"

She opened her mouth, trying to answer, and then just shook her head. "Yeah, Starfire. He's only a figure…"

After a cup of tea—two, actually, thanks to Beast Boy—Raven returned to her room, her mind a mess of thoughts. It was impossible to rewind time, but everyone kept saying it was November third. They fought Cinderblock that night—this night?—and Gabriel had appeared.

_But he hasn't appeared._ Raven bit her lip, staring at her reflection as she passed a mirror. It took a moment, but then she realized something had changed.

She touched the glass with one hand, her cheek with the other; the cut was gone. She wasn't wounded, she had no bruises.

"Impossible," she murmured.

It couldn't have been a dream. It felt too real—and besides, she rarely _had_ dreams, or at least remembered them. So, what was it? A delusion?

_Funny,_ she thought, rubbing the bump at the back of her head. She couldn't remember fainting after the battle with Cinderblock. But maybe she had, and really did just have a wild dream?

She closed her eyes with a sigh. _No… that wasn't—_

A knock on the door made her wince. She rushed to it, strangely jumpy. "Yes?" she asked, opening it.

Robin stood there, leaning against the wall across from the door. His mouth was set in a tight line. "Is there something you want to talk about? You've been acting… odd."

She bit the inside of her cheek, and then shrugged with a noncommittal grunt. "Have you ever had a dream that felt real?"

"Sure, lots." The white of his mask narrowed. "Why?"

"Have you ever… died in a dream?"

His expression grew lighter. "Doesn't everyone die in their dreams once in a while?"

She shrugged again. "What happened? After you died, I mean…"

"I usually wake up…"

Raven felt something in her chest rip, her eyes beginning to itch with tears. "Oh," she said, quickly now. "That's really all it was, I suppose. I'm sorry if I seem 'odd,' I'm just… dazed from when I fainted. I'm tired…"

Robin straightened, nodding, slight doubt on his face. "Go to sleep, then. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Raven smiled, stepped into her room, shut the door, and burst into tears.


	27. Epilogue: Verdict

Egads- the "last chapter"! ("Last" in quotes because, after this, I am most definitely writing a sequel... maybe two.)

**Epilogue: Verdict**

The table they sat around was granite, a pitch-black block of stone carved into a workable slab and then traced with jade flower designs. There were six seated around the massive piece of furniture, with one on a beautiful throne at the head of it and a seventh member standing beside her.

A golden-haired woman rose from her throne and slammed her palms on the table's surface, interrupting the murmurings between the others.

"Milady," King murmured, rolling his unseeing eyes. "Refrain from breaking things, at all costs."

"Well?" she asked the seated five, ignoring her caretaker's directions. "Does anyone else care about Raphael? Does anyone else care about the girl he brought here?"

Gabriel was the first to respond, tone already laden with derision. "Even if we _did_ care, what could we do?"

"We can do whatever we want," Charity answered, grinning down the table at him. When he returned her smile with a downcast sneer, she amended, "_You_ can do whatever we want."

"Not true," Celeste sighed, sinking back into her chair.

"Milady's right; there's only so much here for us to decide."

"You're fucking _God_!" Silver eyes flashed dangerously as Cameron pounded a fist into the granite. "And you three! You three are fucking _angels_! King," he said, spinning to his right, "You're a high power, too! I mean, Charity's useless, but I can help a _little_—there must be something we can—"

Charity leaned forward, glaring at the boy across from her. "What's this about being useless?"

"He's got a point," Gabriel added in, just before Celeste slammed a hand down again.

"Enough," she declared, shaking her head. "You five—well, six, if we're counting King—are the ones who know the situation and have anything to do with it. So, this is the group that has to decide that pair's fate."

"That's a bit of an oxymoron," Uriel added in, jadedly preening the feathers on the joint of his wing. "You can't decide fate. Fate is what happens naturally."

"He's got a point," Gabriel laughed again.

"Will you two—"

"I have an idea," Charity interrupted. "Why can't we leave them both alone? If something happens, it happens. If not, nothing."

Cameron's mouth twisted down into a frown, blatantly objecting the idea. "I'd rather 'something' not happen. Raven might get hurt."

"Or she might not," Gabriel answered. "So we may as well tell both, and do as the useless one over there said: sit and do nothing."

"I am _not_ usele—"

"No!" Cameron shoved his chair back, rising to his feet, beginning to walk anxiously around the room. "I mean, first of all, Raven would probably get killed by Jason. Secondly—"

"His name is Raphael, actually," King said.

"No, he's still Jason," Celeste murmured, wincing at the informal name. "But he's the pre-girl—"

"Her name is Raven."

"—pre-_Raven_ Jason. He won't remember her, he still hates Cameron and if I'm analyzing him correctly, he hasn't received kindness to a point of being nearly-insane."

There was a moment of silence, and then Cameron hissed a quiet, "What are you talking about?"

"She means," King answered, "this 'Raven' was like a stream of light into Raphael's darkness. His past and what he is makes him quite literally insane; he can't handle all of his anger and sorrow, which is why the Raphael part of his personality has been forced to become such a violent, twisted, unforgiving thing."

Tears rimmed Charity's eyes in the seconds it took the red-haired man to explain. "_I_ was kind to him!" she stammered, voice shaky. "Didn't he even notice—"

"Quiet, you faker," Celeste snapped. "You probably threatened him more than you were kind to him. Either that or you tried to sleep with him again."

"God, one. Useless girl, zero."

"Gabriel, I am _not_ useless, unlike—"

"So Jason's 'Raphael'-brand craziness should make it even more imperative to keep him from remembering," Cameron said quietly as he emerged from thought. "He's already a killer, and he regrets it—that messed him up. Let's let _him_ be, at least!"

Celeste nodded. "But we _should_ tell _her_, or at least use indirect signs to warn her. Raphael's mind heals fast, compared to a human's case of amnesia; he'll remember everything within a short period of time."

"Assuming," came a low voice, from the dark-winged angel seated across from Uriel, "of course, that his memories still exist within him." He slowly traced the edge of his wineglass with his index finger, bringing a steady, high-pitched ring from the object. "You'll find that if the Phoenix Process occurred normally, he'd still have memories intact. But this wasn't a normal Process by any means; he was interrupted in the middle of his lifespan and underwent severe cleansing to rid him of Angel's Death. And that incantation, the one the demon-girl recited, probably also had some effect."

"That was for my benefit and had nothing to do with Raphael," Celeste amended.

"Well, then, it may actually have some healing effect on his mind. I don't know the inner workings of such a thing."

Cameron spoke when the pitch-haired archangel fell silent. "Didn't any of you check his memory? Isn't there some Zaphemel of Memory, or something?"

"Zaphemel?" Charity snorted, brow quirked.

Uriel lightly touched her arm, leaving her silent, and looked at Celeste. "_Has_ anyone checked his mind?"

"I haven't allowed anyone near him," she sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose. "I thought it might yank up some deep-rooted memories, and I didn't want to do that until we discussed things."

"Cameron," King said, and turned toward the boy beside him. "You know Raphael's 'human' personality better than us all. What would he agree to?"

The silver gaze dropped to the table, thinking, weighing the question significantly in his mind. "As long as Raven's safe, he'd be happy. I think… I think he'd want us to tell her directly. No signs, no indirect warnings. She'd be able to pick up on them, I'm sure, but then she might get the wrong idea…" He nodded conclusively, meeting the eyes of the council of higher powers. "Let's tell her, and soon."

Celeste smiled back at him. "And if she _does_ remember, the willing release of information from us will keep her from prying."

"Why would she pry if she remembers?"

Hazel eyes rolled blatantly beside the speaker. "Charity, seriously, if you're going to be stupid then please get out of this—"

"Shut it, Gabriel, I'm confu—"

"She _will_ pry," Celeste began, loudly enough to break their conversation but quickly becoming quiet. "And she will do it because no one around her remembers what she remembers. Her teammates may think she's delusional if she tells them. And, by the odd chance that she wrote a diary of some sort, her own writing will be gone, the memories forgotten."

"Injuries?"

"She won't have sustained them."

"Hold on a moment," Uriel said quietly, finally interested in the subject. "You say she won't pry if she finds out what she believes is truth. And what if she's forgotten everything? Won't telling her confuse her more? Are we going to answer all her questions?"

"Even if we do answer them all, will that satisfy her need for knowledge?" Gabriel rocked back in his chair, kicking his booted feet up onto the table. "Personally, if some superhuman being came down and told me about a forgotten love I had forged with some archangel who now wanted to kill me, I'd be curious."

"Can you put your feet on the floor, like a normal person?" Charity asked.

"Oh, hush, you useless mutt. No offense," he grinned at Uriel, who gave an apathetic shake of the head. "Anyway, all I'm saying is that you can answer all the questions you want, and she'll still want to see this supposed 'love' of hers."

Before anyone else could speak, Uriel jumped in, a strange look of horror on his face. "They were in _love_?"

Gabriel shrugged.

His metallic eyes widened almost comically. "I heard she contracted Angel's Death, but… I thought…"

"They _slept_ together?" Charity screeched, launching herself forward in her chair, looking both angry and extremely amused.

"No. Maybe. I don't think so, at least," Gabriel chuckled. "Raven got Angel's Death because Raphael attacked her, and then bit her. She had black wings for a while—they were cool."

"I _told_ you, wings make _every_one look 'cool,'" Celeste muttered; King threw her a reproving glance.

"Black?" The dark-haired man looked up from tracing his glass's rim. "I share wings with a _demon_?"

Uriel smirked. "Michael, yours are more speckled, really."

"Only if you look closely! Are they gone? Hers _are_ gone, right?"

Nodding, Cameron brought back the earlier topic. "So are we telling her or not?"

"If we tell her, she may or may not interfere. If we don't tell her, we get the same outcome." Celeste shook her head, golden curls flying in all directions. "I don't see how we get a win-win situation."

"I still think we should leave them both alone…"

"Shut up, useless."

"Actually, Gabriel," Celeste continued, "that may be best. It requires the least action from us, which is beneficial to keeping things 'normal' for Raphael. If he notices a change in our behavior, he'll become suspicious, even without an intact memory."

"But—"

"It gives the same result," she said again. "Cameron, it really might be best… even if you can't see our side of the argument."

"But if she starts to pry on her own, what'll we do?"

Michael cleared his throat, making the boy's next statement fade on his tongue. "If the demon begins to meddle," he said, resolute, "we will stop her, and inform her that she _is_ correct in memory. But we will ask her to stay away, as much for her benefit as it is for her beloved Jason's. Now, if she doesn't begin to meddle, we will leave her alone."

There was silence for a few seconds, and then a majority of the attendance nodded in agreement. Cameron, however, shook his head, still unsatisfied.

"So that takes of Raven, but what about Jason?"

"We will do the same for him," Michael sighed, taking to tracing his glass again.

"Which personality will remember, though?" Celeste folded her arms on the table, laying her head sideways on her forearms. "Will he still love her? Or will he still hate her for 'breaking' Jason?"

"Hatred over love, probably," Uriel answered her, lips pursed. "Raphael has never gotten along with demons, metaphorical or literal, and his past reincarnations have simply added onto that spite."

"Meaning, what?"

"Meaning, Cameron," Charity answered for him, "that he'll remember the hatred first, or at least lean towards it more when both are realized."

"So he'll go after her," Gabriel mused, staring at the ceiling.

"Yes, unfortunately."

"But… but we can stop him…" Cameron began pacing again, teething his lower lip. "Right? I mean, Jason—"

"—isn't going to be in control when he wakes."

Celeste met Charity's eyes and nodded as best she could without sitting upright. "She's right, Cameron. Raphael is going to be in control, and whatever hits him strongest will be his motive."

Cameron's eyes softened, his paces slowed. "Can't we stop him?"

"It would cause a massive imbalance in the astral powers to even attempt it," King said, hand moving absently to touch Celeste's bowed head.

"That's a big no-no," Gabriel clarified with a barking, humorless laugh. "It might be fun; you know, a challenge."

Charity smirked. "Only for you."

"Seriously," Celeste muttered. "What's our decision? There isn't time to listen to banter."

Uriel spoke first. "We know we can't stop him if he remembers. But there's a massive 'if' there—assuming all goes well, he _won't_ remember, and if we keep from revealing things or acting strangely he won't receive memory triggers, or even begin to seek them out."

"And if he remembers, Raven will just die?" Cameron spun toward the table, indignant.

"Hopefully, it won't come to that."

"And if it _does_?"

King met his silver gaze, steady and firm. "Then _yes_, the girl will die."

Instantly, he clenched his fists, taking steps toward the red-haired man. "Where the fuck do you get off—"

Michael's arm lashed out, grabbing the back of the boy's shirt and yanking. His wings spread in warning, snapping open with a sharp crack before the shoved-away chair clattered into the wall. "You will stay even-tempered," he said, smoldering eyes challenging him to argue. "Or else, your opinion will not be considered. Do you want the girl to die?"

Cameron glared at him; "No."

"Then _sit_."

As soon as Cameron obeyed, he turned again to King, anger in his eyes gone. "Don't begin to think I'm agreeing with you."

"For once," Gabriel spoke up, "I'll also disagree with your leave-it-to-fate opinion. It's unacceptable, to leave her open and vulnerable. And other people will get hurt; her teammates, her city's civilians, her—"

"He has no grudge against Starfire," Uriel smiled.

His hazel-eyed equal flushed slightly, opening and closing his mouth, trying to think of something to throw back.

"Who's Starfire?" came Michael's taunting chuckle. "And where did you come across a girl that you actually _care_ about?"

Clearing her throat, Celeste sat up in her throne. "If the situation arises where Raphael goes after Raven, we'll go against him as much as we can."

"Which isn't much," Charity added; a smirk widened across her face at Cameron's contorted expression.

"We're going to avoid him, then?" Gabriel asked.

King nodded. "As much as possible. He'll expect very little contact, a slight courtesy after a Waking. The Woken are always disoriented at first."

"Speaking of, Cameron," Celeste interrupted, shifting in her seat, "if you want to be with your brother before the ceremony, I'd suggest you go now. If we're trying to avoid suspicion, you _must_ be distant and bitter for a while. After all, you never made up, not even slightly."

"So, what? That's it? We're just leaving them both alone until she remembers or he becomes homicidal?"

Charity grinned at him again. "_Yup_."

"I'll keep watch over them both when I can—it's my fault for Angel's Death in the first place," Uriel admitted. "As to merely repay them for causing this dilemma, I'd like to at least have _some_ role in their protection."

"As much protection as possible," Celeste sighed. "And it still won't—can't—be much."

"But…!"

"Cameron… this is all we can do. Please," she said, leaning closer to him, laying a hand over his. "Let us take care of things."

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Thank you to everyone who reviewed, everyone who read this, and everyone who put this/me on Alert because of it. An especially big thank-you to those who read and critiqued... I hope I've improved since chapter one.

Closing thoughts? Er, hm, let's see... Well, this has taken 2 and a half years to write (I think?)... Celeste is named after a cow in 'Harvest Moon,' if you count that as a 'closing thought.' (Heh.) It's more of a 'fun fact,' I guess. Oh, Cameron probably thinks King is smexy... xD (I write SpAqua, what do you expect?!) Besides that... Oh!

If you tune into the sequel(s)... Michael (the dark-haired/winged/eyed archangel) will be a star in "WHC II." There will be a few love triangles as well... "Will Raven fall for a healing companion, or will Jason get to her in time?" (...cue announcer voice fade-out...)

Again, thank you for reading, and tune in next time to When He Comes: The Sequel!


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